All These Things That I've Done
by EmyPink
Summary: It’s a trip down memory lane for one NCIS team member when a routine investigation goes horribly wrong.
1. Another Day at the Office

**All These Things That I've Done**

By EmyPink

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If it was, Jeanne would be long gone and Tiva would be popping out Tivalets (okay, maybe not, but they would be together).

**A/N** Well here's my promised multi-chaptered fic. This is my first time at an actual running plotline. My other fics have been one-shots. Hopefully it makes sense, so enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

**Rating:** T for some adult themes

**Parings:** Tiva

**Summary:** It's a trip down memory lane for one NCIS team member when a routine investigation goes horribly wrong.

* * *

"We cannot change our memories, but we can change their meaning and the power they have over us." David Seamands

* * *

**Chapter One: **_Another Day at the Office_

"Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the pigeon?" Ziva asked as Tony walked to his desk. He placed his bag on the ground before bringing the edge of his coffee cup to his lips.

"Canary, Zee-vah," Tony replied, before having another sip of coffee. "It's the cat that swallowed the _canary_, not pigeon."

"Canary, pigeon, they are all small birds, yes?" Ziva questioned. Tony gave a small nod. "Then what's the problem? Canary, pigeon, they're all the same?"

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but McGee beat him to it.

"Well, actually," he started, "wild canaries are yellowy-green with a brown streak on their backs and are native to the Canary Islands, Azores and Madeira. Domestic canaries, however, can be all kinds of colours –"

"Does it look like we care, McGeek?" Tony cut McGee off before he could go on. "A bird is a bird. Messy, unhygienic, seriously dangerous –"

"Just like someone I know," Ziva muttered.

Tony shot her a look before continuing, "And what makes you such an expert?"

"My dad used to take me bird watching when I was a teenager," he replied. Tony let out a snort of laughter.

"That explains a whole lot, Probie," Tony laughed. "While the rest of us were being, you know, normal and drinking and having mindless relationships etcetera, you were watching birds. No wonder . . ."

"It's a wonder you even graduated high school, DiNozzo." Gibbs strolled out of the elevator and proceeded to wack Tony on the back of the head before opening his top draw. "With all that drinking and all those mindless relationships."

"Err . . . um . . . boss . . . I didn't." Gibbs' glare cut him off.

"Gear up. We have a dead Petty Officer," Gibbs ordered as he pulled his gun from his top draw and secured it carefully. "McGee, gas the truck."

McGee looked at Gibbs.

"Do you need an invitation?" Gibbs said as he walked out of their office and over to the elevator.

His three subordinates looked at each other for a moment before dashing over to the elevator, making sure it didn't close before they got there.

* * *

Twenty minutes and twenty movie references later, the NCIS team arrived at the home of Petty Officer Erica Cays. As they exited the truck, a local LEO wandered over to them. 

"Officer Hamish," he introduced himself. "We got a call from a neighbour at 0900 hours. When we got here, we found her body in the kitchen. Strangled is what I would guess. We ran her name through our database and she came up as a sailor. Then I called you lot."

"Okay, DiNozzo, I want you to sketch," Gibbs instructed as he headed towards the front door. "Ziva, you bag and tag. McGee, shoot."

"Got it, Boss," Tony replied as the three of them followed Gibbs into the nicely furnished house. "Our Petty Officer has good taste." Tony admired the Italian hall table. "Very nice, I would guess an antique . . ."

Gibbs glared at Tony. "Shutting up now, boss."

"Now that DiNozzo has finished playing Antiques Roadshow, I suggest you get a move on," Gibbs said, disappearing around the corner.

"What is an Antiques Roadshow?" Ziva asked, looking perplexed.

"It's a show where old ladies dig out their old junk and take it to some guy who tells them whether it's worth any money," Tony explained, walking into the kitchen.

"Why would someone want to buy old junk?"

"I ask myself that same question," he replied.

"If you don't do your job, DiNozzo," – Gibbs crouched beside the body – "I suggest you start digging out your old junk."

"Right boss, doing my job." Tony put the pencil to the paper and started to sketch the surroundings, just as Ducky and Palmer walked into the kitchen.

"Who is this poor young lady?" Ducky asked Gibbs, placing his bag on the floor next to the body. "What happened to you, my dear?"

"Petty Officer Erica Cays," Gibbs replied. "The local LEOs reckon she was strangled. I think they're right. You'll let me know."

"Of course, Jethro," Ducky answered. "Now, Mr Palmer, if you could please pass me my liver probe."

* * *

"I know this must be hard for you, Ms Bennett, but I need you to tell me everything you can remember." Gibbs was sitting in the living room with Rachael Bennett, the unfortunate young lady who had discovered PO Cays' body. 

"I . . . um . . . came over to see Ricki . . . Erica because I needed to borrow, you know, a cup of sugar," Rachael started, her voice faltering. "I am . . . was baking cookies. My niece and nephew are coming over this afternoon and I wanted to have something for them to eat, but I ran out of sugar. So I came here, I knew Ricki would have some. She always does, she's like that, organised. Or she was . . . "

Gibbs placed a hand on Rachael's shoulder. "I'm sure she was a lovely person, but I need you to tell me everything you remember when you entered the house. The more you can tell us, the better chance we have of catching this guy."

"I . . . knocked on the door," Rachael continued, "but Ricki didn't answer. I . . . I thought it was a little strange so I let myself in."

"The door was unlocked?" Gibbs questioned.

"No," Rachael replied, twisting her hands nervously. "I kinda . . . kinda used her key."

"Her key?"

"Yeah, she . . . um . . . hides it in the plant with the purple pot," Rachael explained. "I use it to feed her cat when she's deployed."

"Does anyone else know where this key is? Family? Boyfriend?"

"I'm . . . I'm not sure. Maybe? She doesn't have a boyfriend and her family lives interstate."

"Okay, what happened when you entered the house?"

"Um . . . I called out to her, but she didn't answer. I thought maybe, you know, she was asleep or listening to, you know, her Ipod or something like that."

"What happened next?" Gibbs pressed gently.

"I . . . walked into the kitchen." By now Rachael's voice was filled with tears. "And . . . and I saw her. Lying there. I knew . . . she was d . . . dead. I screamed, I think. I don't really remember what happened next. I think I called the police, maybe, I'm not sure."

"Do you remember seeing anything out of the ordinary?" Gibbs asked. "Anything that looked liked it didn't belong."

"No, just . . . just Ricki's body." Rachael buried her face in her hands, tears running down her cheeks.

"Is there anyone you want us to call?"

"Not really," Rachael's muffled reply came. "Oh, god, her parents. What am I meant to tell them? They were so worried that she was gonna be killed in, like, a terrorist attack in Iraq, but . . . but instead she gets . . . killed her own home. It's not fair."

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it," Gibbs said reassuringly. He turned towards the door. "ZIVA."

"Yes, Gibbs?" Ziva asked as she walked into the room a few moments later.

"I want you to check out the back," Gibbs answered. "There was no sign of forced entry from the front, so unless our killer used a key –"

"He came in from the back," Ziva finished. "On it, Gibbs."

Ziva turned and walked out the living room door, leaving Rachael Bennett's cries behind.

* * *

Walking out the front door, Ziva turned her head and spotted a side gate. Hoping that it led to the backyard, Ziva wandered over to it, unlatched the hook and pushed it open. 

Stepping out onto a brick path, Ziva followed it until she reached the patio. Ziva walked over to the sliding door and examined it. There were definitely signs of forced entry. The lock had been picked and it was broken. Ziva pulled out her cell phone and was about to dial Gibbs' number, when she heard a noise coming from the small garden shed.

Pulling out her gun, she carefully made her way over to the shed, keeping her eyes and ears open. Reaching the shed, she listened for movement inside. She heard something topple over.

Ziva pushed open the door, positioned her gun and yelled, "NCIS. Stay where you are." There was nobody there. That was until she felt something rub against her legs. Ziva immediately pointed her gun at the offending creature and nearly laughed out loud when she saw the small, grey cat.

"Just a cat," Ziva said to herself as she turned around. "If it had been Tony he'd –" She was cut off as a brown blur rocketed towards her face. Connecting with its target, Ziva stumbled backwards into the shed, unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

Please R&R! 


	2. Not in Kansas Anymore

**Disclaimer: **You still see Jeanne? Yes. Then it's obviously not mine.

**A/N** Here's the next chappie. I'm taking a few liberties with Ziva's age and with the medical stuff so don't hold it against me. Enjoy muchly.

* * *

"You have to know the past to understand the present." _Dr. Carl Sagan_

* * *

**Chapter Two: **_Not in Kansas Anymore_

"She's very pretty," Tony commented, looking at Erica Cays. "Tall, willowy, she could be a model."

"Well, she's not gonna get a chance now," McGee said, standing next to Tony. "She was strangled, right Ducky?"

"Yes, Timothy," Ducky replied, "our poor Petty Officer did meet an untimely end. I do believe that asphyxiation was the cause of death."

"So nothing out of the ordinary, Ducky?" Tony asked.

"No," Ducky answered. "It is quite straight forward."

"Nothing's straight forward, Duck," Gibbs interrupted, coming up behind his senior agent, making him jump. "You seen Ziva anywhere? I sent her outside to check the back ten minutes ago."

"Nope, haven't seen her," Tony replied. "Probie, have you seen Ziva or do you know where she is?"

"No and No," McGee answered.

"Both Anthony and Timothy have been here with Petty Officer Cays and myself," Ducky added.

"McGee," Gibbs started.

"Yeah, boss."

"Go outside and drag her in here."

"On it, boss." McGee walked out the kitchen and over to the backdoor. He could see that the lock was broken and there was no way he could get out that way.

"I'm going out the front, boss," McGee yelled as he passed the kitchen. "The backdoor lock has been tampered with. You can't get in or out. Our killer probably got in that way."

McGee exited the house and found the same side gate Ziva had. It was still unlatched. Following the brick path, he arrived at the patio.

Unable to see Ziva anywhere, he turned his head and spotted the garden shed. Walking over to the shed, he was shocked to see what was behind the door.

* * *

Opening the door carefully, McGee saw a familiar looking trouser covered leg. He pushed the door open fully and to his horror, saw Ziva slumped against the wall, unconscious and with a large bleeding gash on her head. 

"Ziva," McGee gasped, standing in the doorway frozen. "Ah . . . Ziva . . . you okay?"

'_She's not okay, you idiot,'_ he thought, mentally Gibbslapping himself. _'Get help. Get Ziva. Pulse.'_ McGee dropped to his knees and pushed his fingers against her neck.

"Pulse, pulse. There's a pulse," he mumbled to himself. _'Thank god.'_

"Okay, okay." McGee was talking to himself. "Breathing." He lent over and listened to the rise and fall off her chest.

"Okay, breathing good. Pulse good. She's alive. Call ambulance." He pulled out his cell phone and dialled 911.

After talking to the operator, who assured him an ambulance was coming as soon as possible, he pressed speed dial one. After three rings, the man on the other end picked up.

"What is it, McGee?" Gibbs asked from inside the house.

"Um . . . boss, it's Ziva," McGee started nervously. "She's . . . err . . . been knocked out, I think."

"Knocked out?" Gibbs asked, slightly shocked. "You think?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it," McGee said quickly, hearing Gibbs' muffled voice in the background barking orders. "We're . . . we're in the shed out the back. I've called the EMTs. Bring Ducky, hurry." The phone line went dead. McGee turned back to Ziva.

"It's gonna be okay, Ziva," McGee assured the unconscious Ziva. "The ambulance is coming, Gibbs is coming. It'll be all okay. Gibbs is not gonna be happy. I betcha the guy who did this is gonna be a whole lot worse looking than you once Gibbs . . . and Tony get to him."

"MCGEE!" McGee heard Gibbs yell from outside.

"In here, boss."

Gibbs, Tony and Ducky appeared in the doorway of the shed.

"Oh, my." Ducky looked shocked.

"Ziva!" Tony pushed his way passed Ducky and Gibbs and dropped down next to Ziva. "Probie! What the hell did you do to her?"

"I . . .didn't do anything, Tony," McGee said, looking nervous. "I . . . I just found her like that."

Ducky had now overcome his shock and was barking orders at everyone.

"Jethro, a blanket, please. There should be one in the truck." Gibbs disappeared from sight.

"Timothy, dear, Anthony," Ducky said gently, "could you please step back so I can get a look at Ziva." McGee moved out of the way, but Tony remained where he was.

"Tony."

"I'm not going anywhere, Ducky," Tony replied determinately. Ducky saw his hand inch slowly towards Ziva's. "She's my partner and I should have had her six."

"You didn't know this was going to happen, DiNozzo." Gibbs had arrived with the blanket. Ducky carefully placed it over the unconscious Ziva. "It's not your fault."

"I'm not going anywhere," Tony mumbled, taking Ziva's hand. "I'm staying right here."

"Tony," Gibbs started, but was cut off.

"Just let me do this, please." Tony's voice had slightly pleading tone. "She's my partner and . . ."

"You want to have her six." Gibbs looked at Tony, an expression of understanding on his face. Tony nodded. "He won't be in your way, Duck?"

"It's okay, Jethro."

"McGee," Gibbs said loudly.

"Yes, boss," McGee said timidly.

"Start processing the scene," Gibbs ordered. "Start with outside. Ziva's attacker must have gotten in and out and I want to know how."

"On it, boss." McGee took one last look at Ziva and headed outside.

Gibbs looked at Ducky who was currently checking unconscious Ziva. "She'll be okay, Duck?"

"I'm not sure, Jethro," Ducky began. "She's not responding to our voices and it doesn't look like she's waking up. I'd say she has some kind of head trauma. The ER will have to run tests."

Gibbs rubbed his forehead with his hands. This was supposed to be a routine investigation, but now it seemed one of his team was fighting for their life.

* * *

Five minutes later, the EMTs showed up. McGee directed them towards the shed and Ducky immediately took it upon himself to explain Ziva's condition. 

"I believe she sustained blunt force trauma to the front to the head," Ducky told the EMTs. "I think something like a plank of wood or a baseball bat was the cause. I'm not sure what kind of damage it has caused, but I'm sure there is no injury to her neck."

"Thank you, Dr . . ." one of the EMTs, Tammy, said. She and her partner, Adrian, crouched down next to Ziva.

"Dr Mallard, Donald Mallard."

"Thank you, Dr Mallard," Tammy smiled, "we've got it now."

Tammy and Adrian checked Ziva over before loading her onto a stretcher.

"Err . . . sir," Adrian addressed Tony, "we're moving her now. Maybe you could, you know, step back." Tony reluctantly let go of Ziva's hand and followed the stretcher outside.

"One of you can ride along," Tammy said, looking at the agents.

"Ducky, you go," Gibbs ordered, receiving protests from Tony.

"But, boss," Tony said quickly. "She's my . . . partner and . . . friend. I wanna go. I . . . need to . . ."

"What you need to do, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, "is help McGee process the scene. I want every single little fibre, hair or anything that could be classed as evidence bagged and tagged. I want to know what the hell happened here and I want to know which bastard decided to take it upon himself to injure my agent. Got it?"

"Yes, boss." Tony looked wistfully at the stretcher being wheeled down the brick path and out the side gate. He wished he could go with his partner. Truth be told, he was very worried about her and wanted to make sure that she would survive.

* * *

"Agent Ziva David, aged twenty seven," Tammy said as Ziva was wheeled into the ER of Bethesda Naval Hospital. "Blunt force trauma to the head. BPs 120 over 80 . . ." Ducky watched as they wheeled Ziva into trauma room one. 

"You can wait out here, Dr Mallard," Adrian said kindly. "I'll make sure a doctor comes out a bit later and talks to you."

"Thank you," Ducky said wearily, sitting down in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats.

"I'm sure she'll be okay," Adrian reassured Ducky. "I've dealt with NCIS agents before. I know they're strong. She looks strong."

"That she is." Ducky offered the young paramedic a small smile. "Thank you."

"No problem, I'll go make sure a doctor keeps you informed." Adrian walked off towards trauma one, leaving Ducky alone.

"You'd better be okay, Ziva dear," Ducky sighed. "I don't think the team will cope if you're not."

* * *

Ziva gasped as she bolted upright. "What on earth?" 

She looked around at her surroundings. She appeared to be in a small room with a plasma-sized television and a couple of couches. "Where the hell am I?"

"You're definitely not in hell," came a voice that Ziva couldn't quite place, "but I'm pretty sure you're not in Kansas anymore either."

Ziva spun around and saw a young girl around the age of sixteen with dark eyes and dark wavy hair. She looked a lot like Ziva.

"Tali?" Ziva gasped.

"Hello, dear sister," Tali replied, smiling.

"What the hell?"

"Mind your language," Tali scolded lightly.

"But . . . you're . . . dead."

"I was the last time I checked."

"Then . . . what?"

"You're not dead, Ziva." A voice came out of nowhere. Ziva turned her head and saw her almost boyfriend, Lieutenant Roy Sanders.

"What is going on?" By now Ziva was utterly confused.

"It's called Reflection," Kate Todd said, materialising in the room.

"Reflection?"

"Long story," Kate answered.

"I'll say," Ziva muttered.

* * *

Please R&R 


	3. She's Okay, Right?

**Disclaimer: **She-in-pink-scrubs is still breathing; I think you can figure it out ;) Oh, and the title of my fic _All These Things That I've Done_ was inspired by The Killers song of the same name. However, the lyrics of the song have no ties to this fic, I just borrowed the name.

**A/N** I'm slightly worried about characterisation is this chapter, especially Abby. I don't think I did a good job of writing her, but you'll have to make do. Plus I apologise in advance for the dodgy medical scene. I am a student who has no talent for science and no aspirations to be a doctor. My medical knowledge is curtesy of ER, Grey's Anatomy and All Saints.

* * *

"It only seems as if you are doing something when you're worrying." _ Lucy Maud Montgomery_

* * *

**Chapter Three:** _She's Okay, Right?_

"DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered as he, Tony and McGee walked into the bullpen, "I want you to find out everything you can about Petty Officer Cays. Where she was born, where she previously worked, who she associates with, hell, I want to know where she shops and what her favourite colour is."

"On it, boss."

"McGee." Gibbs turned to his other agent. "I want a BOLO out on her car. It wasn't in the drive so it's either where she left it or our killer took it."

"Wouldn't we have heard a car leave?" McGee questioned, sitting at his desk. "I mean, it wasn't exactly the Super Bowl."

"Do we even know if the murder and Ziva's attack are linked?" Tony asked thoughtfully. "It would be pretty stupid to stay at the scene of the crime, even the petty crims know that."

"So we assume we're looking for two suspects?" McGee questioned.

"Never assume anything, McGee," Gibbs replied, booting up his computer.

"What rule is that?" McGee asked Tony softly.

"Err . . . is it even a rule?"

"Rule three?"

"No, that's . . . um . . . something about double checking and not believing what you're told . . . or something like that," Tony replied, puzzled. "Well, we know it's definitely not rule twelve, we all know what rule twelve is. Maybe –"

"Maybe you should start doing your job, DiNozzo, and try and find the idiot who attacked your partner," Gibbs said, standing up and whacking both McGee and Tony on the back of their heads. "I'm going to see Abby. I want a full autobiography on our Petty Officer by the time I get back."

"Yes, boss," both agents replied simultaneously.

* * *

"Gibbs," Abby said happily as the door opened and Gibbs stepped into the Forensics lab, "whatcha got for me?" 

"Nothing yet, Abs," Gibbs replied, "although, hopefully Palmer has finished the autopsy on our dead Petty Officer."

"Palmer? What's Ducky doing?"

"He's with Ziva?"

"Why is he with Ziva?"

"Didn't McGee call you and tell you about Ziva?"

"No. Tell me what about Ziva?" Abby's voice suddenly got a pitch louder. "Gibbs!"

"She was attacked, Abs."

"Attacked? What?"

"Someone hit her over the head. McGee found her unconscious in the garden shed."

"What? No! You're joking, right Gibbs? I mean its Ziva. Ziva's got crazy ninja skills. She wouldn't let some idiot get the better of her."

"No joke, Abby. She's at the hospital with Ducky."

"She's okay, right?" Gibbs was worried that Abby was getting slightly hysterical.

"I don't know. We haven't heard anything."

"But she'll be okay, right? Please tell me she's gonna be okay!"

"I can't tell you that, I don't know myself."

"I wanna go down there."

"Abs . . . "

"No, Gibbs. I want to go and see her."

"I need you here, Abs."

"Why? You said we didn't have any evidence yet."

"It should be processed soon. Then I need my best forensic scientist to find something that will give us lead on who attacked Ziva and who killed Petty Officer Cays."

"But . . ."

"Abby, we need you here. Ziva's strong, she'll pull through."

"You don't know that, Gibbs. What . . . what about Kate. We all thought she was strong . . . but she died."

"Different situation, Abs."

"I don't want her to die, Gibbs." Abby moved towards Gibbs and he embraced her tightly.

"I don't want her to die either, Abs," he said softly to himself.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Ducky had taken to pacing nervously. Every so often, he would stop and check the time, hoping that it was going quicker. Finally the doors opened and a young doctor walked over to where Ducky had stopped at a stand still. 

"Dr Mallard?" The male doctor questioned. Ducky nodded and the doctor gave him a small smile. "I'm Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins and I've been looking after your agent."

"It's officer, actually," Ducky amened.

"Okay. Officer David . . ." he said, pronouncing David like any American would.

"Da-veed," Ducky corrected, "not David. It's Jewish."

"Okay, so Agent David," he tried again, this time pronouncing Ziva's name correctly, but giving her the wrong title.

"It's Officer David," Ducky sighed, noting the young doctor's flustered appearance.

"Does it really matter?" Dr Winchester-Diggins snapped irritably. "Look _Officer_ Da-_veed _sustained some brain injury caused by a blow to front of her head . . ."

Ducky was getting frustrated. He already knew that, it was obvious. Dr Winchester-Diggins must have seen his frustration so he hurried along.

"We performed some tests, including a CAT scan," Dr Winchester-Diggins started. "It is clear that Officer David has some form of brain injury, but we won't know the full extent until she's woken up. She's being moved up to the Intensive Care Unit where she'll be carefully monitored. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but currently Officer David is comatose and we are not sure when she'll wake."

"But you believe that she will wake up?" Ducky asked worriedly.

"I'd say there is a pretty good chance," Dr Winchester-Diggins assured Ducky, "but we won't know if there is any permanent brain damage until she wakes up."

Ducky sank into the nearby seat. He buried his face in his hands and sighed. Now he had the fun task of informing Gibbs and his team.

"Thank you, Dr Winchester-Diggins." Ducky looked at the doctor who was gazing at him sympathetically.

"No problem," he replied. "Would you like to go and see her? I can get a nurse to take you?"

"No, but thank you," Ducky thanked the man. "I really must call her boss and let him know."

"I understand, but when you're done, you can ask a nurse and she'll escort you to Officer David's room."

"Thank you," Ducky said again and pulled out his cell phone.

"Err . . . no cells in the hospital."

Ducky looked at Dr Winchester-Diggins with a _'you've gotta be kidding'_ expression.

"I know that," Ducky snapped, his worry for Ziva finally coming through his voice. "I'm going to go outside, what do you take me for?"

"Dr Mallard . . ."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Ducky said, apologising for his outburst. "I'm just worried about Ziva."

"That's understandable. I'll leave you to it." Dr Winchester-Diggins walked off and Ducky proceeded to exit the hospital.

* * *

"Ducky," Gibbs said, picking up the cell phone after two rings, "how is she?" 

Gibbs heard Ducky sigh on the other end. "Not good, Jethro. She's in a coma . . ."

"Coma? You sure about that, Duck."

"Well, Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins believes so."

"You're one hundred percent certain then? You sure you trust a doctor named after a yellow, four-fingered cartoon."

"I believe he knows what he's talking about, Jethro," Ducky replied. "It would be quite common after receiving head trauma like our Ziva did."

Gibbs sighed. "Do you know when she's gonna wake up?"

"The doctor's aren't sure."

"Do they even think she gonna wake up?"

"Oh, yes, Jethro. They do believe Ziva will be joining us once again, but they don't know what kind of damage this blow has done."

"So she might have permanent brain damage?" Gibbs didn't even want to think about it.

"Quite possibly. I'm sorry, Jethro."

"Never apologise, Duck, it's a sign of weakness."

"You're going to have to tell the team."

"I know. I'll get on to it."

"Good." Ducky nodded approvingly, even though Gibbs couldn't see through the phone. "Is Mr Palmer done with the autopsy?"

"I'm not sure, I'll find out afterwards."

"I'll be up with Ziva in ICU if anyone is going to come down."

"Got it, Duck . . . and Ducky."

Yes, Jethro."

"Don't let her die."

"I won't, Jethro. I won't.

* * *

"McGee," Gibbs said after severing the line with Ducky. "Call Abby and get her up here." 

"Yes, boss." McGee picked up his phone.

"Tony." Gibbs turned to his senior field agent. "Um . . . get Palmer up here too. He's pretty much part of the team now."

"You've got it, boss. Was that Ducky on the phone? How's Ziva?"

"Just do it, DiNozzo."

A minute later, Abby came flying into the bullpen.

"Is it Ziva? Is she okay? She's alive, right? Please don't tell me she's dead. She can't be dead."

"She's dead?" Palmer joined the group. "Officer David . . . she's . . . not . . . she can't be."

"She's not dead," Gibbs said bluntly. "At least she isn't until I get my hands on her."

"So she's okay then?" Tony asked.

"I never said that." Gibbs replied, a little softer.

"But she's gonna be okay, right?" McGee looked at Gibbs, wanting reassurance. The others followed, all looking at Gibbs for reassurance on their only female agent.

"Ducky," Gibbs started, "informs me that Ziva is in a coma."

"Coma!"

"You serious, boss?"

"No . . ."

"Joke. Right, boss?"

"Not a joke, DiNozzo." Gibbs looked at the shocked faces of his team.

"She's gonna wake up, right?" Abby asked tearfully, looking about ready to cry.

"The doctors think so," Gibbs said, "but they're not sure when . . . or what kinda of lasting effect there will be."

"So Ziva could have . . . oh, god." Tony lowered himself into the closest chair, just in case his legs decided not to support him.

"Ziva can't have brain damage. She just can't." Abby turned around and buried her face in McGee's shirt, silent tears running down her cheeks.

"This had not been a good day," Palmer observed sadly.

"Ya think?"


	4. Reflection

**Disclaimer:** What do you think the chances are of . . . err . . . borrowing a certain Boy Who Lived to vanquish our own Dark Lor . . . Lady better known as She-In-Pink-Scrubs or She Who Blocks Much Tivaness? Good? I'm hoping so too. - _daydreams about pink scrubs and jets of green light_ - Anyways, as you can see from my fantasy, NCIS is not mine. Maybe if I use a little Imperius Curse . . . hmmmmm . . .

**A/N** Sorry about the delay (and the slightly whacked disclaimer), but I've been sick and haven't been in the mood to do anything lately. I bet I'm suffering from Harry Potter withdrawal (or depression over the deaths of my _two_ favourite characters). Imagine what it would be like if NCIS finished? Anyways, hopefully I haven't lost too many faithful readers by keeping you all hanging. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy :)

* * *

"Life is a sum of all your choices." – Albert Camus

* * *

**Chapter Four:**_ Reflection_

"What the hell is going on?" Ziva paced up and down the small room, confusion etched on her face. "Where am I? This is some Morphine induced hallucination, yes?"

"Ziva . . ."

"Don't Ziva me, Tali. This is like A Christmas Carol, no? You've come to show me my past, present and future."

"Calm . . ."

"Calm, you expect me to be calm," Ziva snapped. "How can I be calm if I'm in a room with my dead sister, my dead boy . . . err . . . person and the agent who got herself shot by my half brother."

"Do you think I asked to be shot by your brother," Kate retorted. "It's not like it was majorly fun for me either. I would, by the way, much prefer to be down on earth with my team."

"They're not your team anymore," Ziva remarked, coming to a halt.

"They'll always be my team."

"I don't see you . . . "

"Yeah, thanks to your brother . . ."

"_Half _brother . . ."

"Okay, ladies." Roy stepped in between the two brunettes who were practically in each other's face. "Why don't we both just calm down, take a deep breath and relax. Or am I going to have to separate you two?"

Kate and Ziva glared at each other.

Roy sighed. "I was hoping that we could be mature about this. Should have listened to the Powers-That-Be, they said this would happen. But no, I go off in my own little world thinking that Kate would be good for Ziva."

"Good? In what way is she good for me?" Ziva muttered.

"Why do I even bother?" Kate complained.

"Yeah, why did you bother?"

"I wouldn't have if I knew you were gonna be like this."

"Well, if I knew I was going to be stuck in some ga-ga –"

"La-la," Tali corrected.

"– whatever land with a bunch of dead people, I might have been a little more careful."

"Okay!" Roy yelled. "Time-out! Ziva, you over there." He pointed to one of the couches. "Kate, just . . . go and see if we're hooked up."

"If it gets me away from her, sure," Kate muttered and disappeared in a shower of golden lights.

* * *

"Hooked up to what?" Ziva asked, glad that Kate had vacated the room. She received no reply. "Somebody tell me what's going on?" 

"As Kate –" Roy was cut off by Ziva's look. "Don't look at me like that, Ziva. Kate is a very nice person."

"Nice," Ziva mumbled, "if you like . . ."

"Ziva Shamira David, what has gotten into you?" Tali scolded, looking at her older sister. "You have no right to judge Kate. You've known her for a whole of five seconds."

"Don't you seem to be the head of the 'I love Kate' club?" Ziva replied angrily. "Look, I did not ask to be here. I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing here. Eurgh, I would be better off dead, and I mean properly dead."

"You don't mean that," Tali corrected quickly.

"How would you know what I mean?"

"I'm your sister."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I. Am. Your. Sister. I know you better than anyone else," Tali said fiercely.

"Yeah, you were my sister until you got yourself blown up." Tali stepped back like she'd been hit in the face, a shadow of shock passed over her.

"That was uncalled for, Ziva," Roy said, unable to see where the girl from the hospital had gone.

Ziva sighed. "Look, okay, I'm sorry Tali. I didn't mean it, I really didn't. It's just . . . I'm so confused. I never thought I'd see either of you again. It's a shock, okay." Ziva buried her face in her hands.

"We understand, Ziva." Ziva looked at him disbelievingly. "We do understand, Ziva, more than you think."

"Then tell me what's going on." Ziva looked Tali and Roy in the eye. "Please."

* * *

"It's called Reflection, Ziva," Roy started. Ziva opened her mouth to say something. "Don't, Ziva. Don't interrupt." Ziva obediently shut her mouth. 

"Refection," Roy continued, "is kinda, erm . . . how do I put this . . . like a place between life and death, but not really."

"I don't think she understands, Roy," Tali mentioned, looked at her sister's confused expression.

"Well . . ."

"It's a place where you look back on the events that have defined your life," Tali said, before Roy could confuse Ziva even further.

"Why?" Ziva couldn't help herself.

"I'm not sure, Ziva." Tali could see another question on Ziva's lips, but cut her off before she had a chance to ask it. "Only you know."

"How do I know?"

"That's what we've got to figure out," Roy replied. "Something is keeping you here, preventing you from waking up."

"I'm fine," Ziva said defiantly, "so tell me how to get back."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"What was it that you said before," Tali said, looking thoughtful, "oh yeah, 'I wish I was dead'."

"It was a figure of speech, Tali."

"You sure about that?"

"Course I am. I don't want to die. I'm perfectly happy."

"You are?"

"Yes, so leave me alone."

"No can do, Ziva," Roy said. "I mean, you must have noticed the lack of doors in this room."

"Then do that thing . . . _she_ . . . did," Ziva suggested. "You know the thing with the lights."

"We're not going anywhere, Ziva," Tali added. "We can't, even if we wanted too. We've been tied to you. It is our duty to help you."

"What are you, by the way?" Ziva questioned, momentarily getting sidetracked. "Angels? I don't see any cream cheese anywhere."

"We're not angels."

"Then what . . . ?"

"We are part of you," Roy answered.

"Part of me?" Ziva scoffed. "Sure, because I believe that. Tali maybe. You, well, I guess, but Kate? I've never even met her before this. I don't even like her."

"You haven't given her a chance," Tali pointed out.

"A chance? Why would I need to give her a chance? It's not like I'm ever going to see her again, yes?"

"You don't know how long you're gonna be here, Ziva."

"You mean I could be stuck here forever?"

"Not forever, but time passes differently here."

"This sounds like the Twilight Zone," Ziva muttered.

"It's really whatever you want it to be, Ziva."

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Ziva started. "This Reflection thingy is to fix my mistakes, yes?" 

"Not your mistakes, Ziva. The events that defined you, and you can't fix them. You cannot interfere with the past."

"Defined me? Defined me how?"

"You're not happy," Tali observed, changing the conversation.

"I am."

"Let me put it another way then. You're not at peace with yourself?"

"I not what?"

"You regret it."

"Regret what?"

"Joining Mossad."

"No, I don't. I like my job."

"Do you really?"

"Yes, I catch the bad guys. I make the world a better place. I couldn't be happier."

"Do you remember graduation, Ziva?" Tali asked.

"Yeah," Ziva replied. "Why wouldn't I? Who can forget scratchy dresses, bucket loads of make-up and the boy who's more interested in other girls than his own date? What about graduation?"

"That night changed you," Tali said.

"Changed me how?"

"Do you remember your dream?"

"What dream?"

"You know, go to _medical school_, and become a doctor, save lives. I would say like Ari, but we all know how that turned out."

"You know I could never have done that? Dad would have . . ."

". . . Had a fit, I know, but you were gonna try. Right?"

"Mossad has always been my only option, you know that. It was yours too."

"Yes, well, our friend the bomber took care of that."

"Tali . . ."

"You regret it."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do. I know you do. I'm your sister, I can tell. You've regretted it ever since the beginning."

"I had no choice, Tali."

"There are always choices, sister, and face it, you made the wrong one."

"So that is what's keeping me here," Ziva speculated. "The fact that I did my duty, what was expected of me. It's a pretty poor excuse."

"It's not our excuse, Ziva," Roy reminded her. "This is your Reflection. This is your life. This is you."

"So how do I fix it?"

"That is up to you," Tali answered. "We are here to help you, but you're the only person who can do it."

"But h . . . how?" Ziva was startled by the sound of static coming from the plasma television.

"We can start with this."

"With what?"

"This." And the plasma television sprang to life.

* * *

**A/N2 **Please don't be too upset if Kate seems off. I have never had the chance to see her properly and assess her character. I'm just going by what I've read and what I've heard other people say. I don't really know if Ziva and Kate would have gotten along in the show, maybe, maybe not, but this is fan fiction so I guess anything goes, right :) 


	5. Just The Beginning

**Disclaimer:** Still no word on our Boy Who Lived. Time for plan B. I wonder what the Ministry are gonna do with all those rogue Dementors? Maybe they'll nudge a few in my direction :) I should let my Dementors take out The Frog too, and then we could back to normal cases. Yes, well, NCIS is not mine. I don't think they're gonna sell to a nutcase like me.

**A/N** I bet you can guess that I've still on a Harry Potter high. Well, here's the next chapter. Just a warning, there is one swear word and implied sexual intercourse, but it's nothing you wouldn't find in an M-rated (Australian rating that is – PG-13 I think is the American equivalent, not sure) show. And just pretend the characters are speaking Hebrew, okay. I'll probably be able to post one chapter per week, maybe more in the school holidays. Enjoy!

* * *

"There is a good reason they call these ceremonies "commencement exercises." Graduation is not the end; it's the beginning." - Orrin Hatch

* * *

**Chapter Five:**_ Just The Beginning _

_Tel Aviv Community Secondary College, Class of 1997 Graduation, Tel Aviv, June 1997_

"Zee!" a voice shrieked. A blur of dark hair flew across the hall and latched onto eighteen year old Ziva.

"Whoa, calm down, Addy," Ziva said from underneath the arms. "You're wrinkling your dress."

Adena Harel immediately unlatched herself from her best friend and studied her intently. "Oh, gosh, you look great, Zee."

Ziva was wearing a golden dress, heels and her hair was flowing down her back. "You too, Addy."

"You like it?" Adena spun around, showing off her pastel pink dress. "It's imported from America. Daddy got it especially."

Ziva rolled her eyes inconspicuously. "It's great, Ad."

"So you think your hunk of a spunk brother will like it?"

"Addy," Ziva admonished, "Ari's like ten years older than you . . . and he's my brother."

"Half brother, Zee," Addy replied, "half brother."

"Same difference. He's just the same as a full brother. Plus he has a girlfriend."

"When has that stopped me before?"

"Good point."

"So . . . is he here?" Adena asked eagerly.

Ziva sighed. "He should be somewhere with Tali."

"And your father . . ."

"Highly unlikely," Ziva muttered.

"I'm sure he'll be here."

"He won't," Ziva replied defiantly.

"But . . ."

"You know him, Mossad and all."

"My dad's Mossad too and he's here."

"Adena!" a voice yelled. Ziva recognised it as Adena's father.

"Ooh, sorry, Zee," Adena apologised, "I'd better see what he wants." Adena hurried off, leaving Ziva by herself.

* * *

"Shalom, little sister." Ziva spun around at the sound of a familiar voice. 

"Ari!" Ari bent over and kissed Ziva on cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to see you," thirteen year old Tali piped up.

"Can't a brother come to wish his little sister good luck?" Ari said.

"I guess he can," Ziva smiled happily, glad that at least someone in her family cared. "Toda."

"Don't need to thank me, Zee. What are older brothers for?"

"Getting me alcohol and into clubs."

"Really funny, Zee, really funny," Ari replied with a smile. "Where's that friend of yours?"

"Oh, Addy? She's somewhere. Her dad called her away. Before, though, she was swooning over you . . . again. I don't get what she sees in you."

Ari punched Ziva lightly on the shoulder. "It's my charismatic charms and grace. All girls love me!"

"And so does your ego by the sounds of it," Ziva said, retuning his friendly punch.

"I can't wait to graduate," Tali said excitedly, looking around the hall, "then I can finally get out of this place."

"Only a few more years to go, Tal,' Ari replied, smiling at his sister.

"I wish it would hurry up," Tali sighed. "Ooh, hi Kelila . . ."

A girl Tali's age walked over to the group. "Tali, what are you doing here?"

"Older sister, remember," Tali replied, pointing to Ziva.

"Right, totally forgot about that," Kelila said, leaning closer to Tali. "Guess what? You'll never guess who's here?"

Tali looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Meir, you know, from school," Kelila replied, "The one that you . . ."

"Okay, Kel," Tali said loudly, cutting her off, "why don't we go outside?" Tali waved to her sister and brother before pushing Kelila out the door.

"I think someone has a crush," Ziva said to Ari.

* * *

"He's not here, is he," Ziva said, a moment later. 

"I'm sorry, Zee," Ari apologised. "I tried. I even told him I would blow his head off if he didn't."

"You didn't! How could you be so stupid?"

"Yeah, well, I got a nice bruise to show for it."

"Ari, why do you insist on antagonising him?"

"Because . . ."

"Because what?"

"He gets under my skin, Zee. Nothing I ever do is good enough for him."

"That's not true."

"It is and you know it."

"But . . ."

"This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing our father. This is your day, little sister. . . I'm proud of you."

"That makes one person," Ziva said under her breath.

* * *

Three hours later, the Class of 1997 had graduated and were milling around outside the hall. 

"He wasn't there, was he?" Ziva asked Ari.

"No."

Ziva sighed. "I guess it was stupid to hope."

"Not stupid, Zee, just normal."

"Why!" Ziva exploded. "Why can't he take time out of his stupid job for this one day? Every other student had their parents here and I had no one. Mum's dead and father might as well be."

"We were here," Tali pointed out.

"It's not the same," Ziva yelled. "Father is always trying to paint this picture of a perfect family for all his Mossad people, but when it really matters . . ."

"Err . . . Ari," Tali whispered, trying to keep Ziva from noticing, "I think we have a problem."

Ari turned his head slightly and saw Aharon David strolling over to his family. "Damn it."

". . . How can he be a father when he's never there," Ziva finished, unaware of the new arrival.

"Ziva, dear," the new voice said, "how did it go?"

"How did it go!?!" Ziva yelled, recognising the voice. "You would have known how it went if you had been here."

"I was caught up at work."

"You're always caught up at work."

"We were interrogating a suspect."

"So? Why couldn't you get someone else to do it?"

"It was my duty."

"Your_ duty_ was to be here with me as a father. Some father you are."

"Don't you talk to me like that."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your . . ."

"Do not say 'because I'm your father'. A father would have been here for his daughter, not conducting an interrogation which could have been done by dozens of other officers. Adena's father was here, so why couldn't you?"

"I was working."

"It's always work."

"Ziva . . ."

"No. Don't. Just go and leave me alone." Ziva turned away from her father and walked off in the direction of the park across the road.

* * *

"It's not every day you see a young lady sitting in a gown in the middle of a park." Ziva's head spun around and she stood up, ready to defend herself. "Whoa, calm down. I'm not here to kidnap you or anything." Ziva looked at him warily. 

"Tamir Zimman," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Err . . . Ziva David." Ziva accepted his hand reluctantly.

"Officer David's daughter?"

"Great," Ziva muttered, "I'm not even my own person anymore. I'm just Officer David's daughter."

"I didn't mean it like that. I was merely stating . . ."

"What do you want," Ziva cut him off.

"That's not very ladylike."

"I couldn't careless if I'm ladylike at the moment."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tamir joined Ziva on the bench.

"To a complete stranger? I know better than that."

"I'm not a stranger. You know my name, I know yours and I know your father. How does that make me a stranger?"

Ziva offered a small smile. "How do I know you're not a killer?"

"Well . . . you would be dead by now and I would be halfway to Mexico. Besides, I'm Mossad. I only go after the bad guys."

"Wonderful, Mossad." Ziva was very unimpressed with this new revelation.

"I take it you don't like Mossad." Ziva was silent. "I guess I'll take that as a yes . . . so what are you doing here."

"Graduating."

"Graduating from what?"

"School. You must have seen the hall across the road."

"Indeed I have. Why aren't you graduating then?"

"I already have."

"Then why aren't you at an after party?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you?"

"I've been trained to ask questions. It's what I do. You still haven't answered my question."

"I didn't feel like it."

"Didn't feel like it? Everyone feels like it after sitting through dozens of sleep-wise speeches."

"Hey! I gave one of those speeches."

"Then I'm sure it was a very un-sleep-wise speech." Tamir flashed Ziva a smile and she rolled her eyes.

"No . . . it was very sleep-wise," Ziva said with a large smile. "I didn't even write it. A teacher did."

"Look! She smiles. You have a very pretty smile."

"Trying to pick up, are we?"

"How could you think such a thing?"

"Easy. I'm alone. You're a guy."

"I would hope my mother raised me better than that," Tamir replied. "So . . . what's the real reason you're not off partying?"

"My father," Ziva muttered.

"Your father? What about him."

"Pretty much everything, especially the fact that he couldn't even be bothered to watch me graduate."

"You sound upset."

"Of course I'm upset. What kind of father misses his own daughter's graduation?"

"Mine, for a start."

"Really?" Ziva turned and looked at Tamir.

"Yeah, my father didn't show up at my graduation either."

"Why?"

"Because he's bastard. I could never live up to his expectations, you know. Whatever I did was never good enough."

"How did you . . .?"

"I stopped seeking his approval," Tamir replied. "I stopped doing things for him and started doing things for me."

"But Mossad . . ."

"I wanted to be Mossad. I always have. Father wanted me to be a doctor."

"Opposite to my life." Tamir looked at her questioningly.

"I want to be a doctor, father wants me to be Mossad like him and the rest of the family."

"So go for it."

"Father would never allow it."

"What did I just say? Do it for you, not for him."

"It is what is expected . . ."

"What is expected of you is that you follow your heart. I did and I'm the happiest I've been in a long time."

"But father . . ."

"You have to stop seeking the approval of your father, Ziva. Unless you join Mossad as he wishes, it's never going to come. I know this."

"My whole life has been about seeking my father's approval. It was . . . is the only way to get any attention."

"Then stop. Live life like you want to. Life is short. If your father can't see what a brilliant daughter he has, then it's his loss."

"It's not that easy," Ziva pointed out.

"Yes it is. Do it. Do what's right for you."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I'm not wise, I just understand. Do what your heart desires, Ziva David, and stop trying to live the life that is not yours."

* * *

The next afternoon, Ziva awoke to the sound of her radio. Groaning and chastising herself for staying out late and not waking until the afternoon, Ziva thought back to the night before. 

After Tamir had finished his speech of inspiration, they went skinny dipping in the park's pond. Something which Ziva's father would have frowned upon.

"_Forget about your father. Do something impulsive for once,"_ he had said.

So she did and she enjoyed herself immensely. She remembered kissing Tamir, his lips on hers. Climbing up the bank, he had kissed her again.

"_Are you sure about this,"_ he said.

"_Yes, I am very sure,"_ she replied.

So underneath the moonlight, Ziva Shamira David lost her virginity to the one man who, despite only knowing him for a short time, understood her better than anyone had ever before.

"And finally," the newsreader on the radio said, jolting Ziva back into the present, "two officers from Mossad have been killed while raiding the house of a wanted terrorist. Although Mossad has not officially released the names of the deceased, we believe the deceased officers are Gavriel Stein and Tamir Zimman."

Ziva's heart stopped, just for a moment, and then she got up and calmly went about her everyday routine. Pushing the previous night out of her head, Ziva sank to the floor of the shower and started to cry.

'_This is what happens when you follow your dreams,'_ she though to herself. _'You end up in tears . . . or dead. I am not going to start something good and have it ripped away from me. I am not. I am Mossad."_


	6. Control

**Disclaimer:**_'Sigh'_, no Dementors, no Boy Who Lived so I guess we'll have to rely on us Tiva fans to get rid of She Who Blocks Much Tivaness. Everybody in? I am! NCIS is still not mine, but I can dream :)

**A/N** This chapter is my shortest yet. I originally had two different things planned out for this chapter, but I found that the first section was expanding more than I expected so I decided to split it up (which means an extra chapter). And for everyone who's wondering where the rest of the NCIS team is, I'm just setting up the story and they'll be long soon. In fact, the next chapter is pretty much all Ducky.

* * *

"No one is in control of your happiness but you; therefore, you have the power to change anything about yourself or your life that you want to change." - Barbara De Angelis

* * *

**Chapter Six:**_ Control_

_Present time_

"What the hell was that!?!" Ziva yelled as she tore her eyes away from the plasma television which had just finished recounting a _very_ private memory. "What gives you the damn right to pry into my personal life?"

"Ziva . . ."

"Don't." Ziva was livid. "Just don't."

"Zee," Tali started, reverting back to the nickname Ziva had while she was growing up, "please, just calm down."

"Calm down! Is that seriously all you can say? Calm down!"

"If you would just . . ."

"No!" Ziva exclaimed. "No, you are going to find whoever is in charge here and I'm going to have a nice long _talk_ with them and then they're going to send me back to the real world. I will wake up in an awful hospital room, my boss will yell at me, Tony will quote some obscure movie and it will be back to _normal_."

"No can do, Ziva," Roy said.

"Well, why not?"

"We don't have the authority," Roy replied.

"Then get me someone with the authority."

"We can't do that either," Tali announced.

"What can you do then?" Ziva practically yelled. "If you can't send me back, if you can't find someone to send me back, what can you do?"

"We can help you."

"Help me? I don't need help. – What about Agent Todd? Can she get me back?"

"I thought you didn't like Kate."

"I don't, but if she can get me back then I'll pretend."

"She can't do that either," Tali answered.

"Why not?" Ziva asked again.

"Only you can do it," Roy explained.

"What?"

"When you are ready, then you will go back. Only you have the authority."

"Well, I'm ready. Beat me home."

"I think you mean _beam _me home."

"Yes, well, whatever. I'm ready."

"Then go," Tali said.

"How?"

"Just think _'I want to go home'_."

"And I assume I have to click my heels three times, yes?" Ziva asked sarcastically.

"Only happens in the movies, Zee," Tali smiled. "Go on."

Ziva rolled her eyes._ 'I want to go home,'_ Ziva thought, feeling very stupid. She didn't move.

"Not working."

"Try closing your eyes."

Ziva did this and when she opened them, she was still standing in the same spot as before.

"You're not ready, Zee," Tali concluded.

"Yes, I am."

"Maybe in your head, but not in your heart," Roy clarified.

"My heart? What's my heart got to do with this?"

"Everything," Tali replied softly, "everything."

* * *

Ziva growled as she sat down on the couch. "Why me?" 

"Simple," came Kate's voice, "you have issues."

"Issues?" Ziva asked, annoyed that Kate had returned. "What issues?"

"Well, for starters there's your attitude . . ."

"Kate," Roy warned.

Kate sighed. "Fine, it's not your attitude, but I have to say . . ."

"Caitlin!" Roy said exasperatedly.

"Okay, okay. There's the issue of control."

"I am perfectly in control."

"You may be, but you weren't always."

"Yes, I was," Ziva said quickly.

Kate looked around and rolled her eyes. "Why did you take up piano?"

"My father said that it was a good skill for a person to have."

"What about ballet?"

"Co-ordination," Ziva replied immediately, "father said I was too clumsy."

"Spanish?"

"My father believed . . ."

"Turkish?"

"Father . . ."

"Krav Maga?"

"Father wanted me to . . ."

"Can't you see the pattern?" Kate interjected. "It's always your father telling you what to do."

"She's right, Zee," Tali added. "It was the same with me . . . and Ari" Tali added Ari as an afterthought. Kate's face darkened. "You know he was prepping us for Mossad."

"So?"

"So!" Kate exclaimed. "So, your father has been controlling you from day one."

"Why would you care?"

"I don't," Kate answered, "but my job does. I'm just doing my job."

"Oh, because you're doing such a brilliant job at it," Ziva said sarcastically.

"Stop," Roy ordered, glaring at the two women, "I am not here to referee your catfights. Grow up both of you. Stop acting like spoilt teenagers."

"She start . . ." Ziva and Kate said together.

Roy cut them off. "DO NOT SAY SHE STARTED IT! What are you, like five? Nobody started anything, okay."

"But . . ."

"No buts, either of you. I am seriously starting to get a headache."

"Headache? Can you even get headaches," Ziva inquired. "I thought you were dead."

"I am, it's just . . . never mind," Roy sighed. "Do you think you two can handle behaving like adults?" Roy looked at Ziva and then at Kate. They eyed each other warily.

"God, what is wrong with you two?"

"I'll behave if _she_ does," Kate said finally.

"Ziva?"

Pausing, Ziva replied, "I guess so."

"Good, thank you," Roy sighed with relief.

* * *

"Back to the topic at hand," Roy started, "Ziva, it's obvious that you have been letting your father dictate most of your life." Ziva looked like she was about to object. "Don't disagree with me Ziva, you know it as well as I do." 

"He was just being a father." Ziva was surprised that she was defending him.

"You know you don't believe that, Zee," Tali piped up. "If he was being a father, he would have been at our recitals or watching us perform or graduate."

"He just wanted what was best for us." Ziva found herself defending her father again.

"If he wanted what was best for us, he would have spent more time with us," Tali replied. "It's no wonder Ari turned out to be a psychopathic terrorist."

"Finally someone agrees," Kate muttered and Ziva sent her a death glare.

"Let's not bring Ari into this, Tal."

"Okay, let's say if that hunky looking partner of yours . . . err . . . Tony, that's it, asked you to strip and give him a lap dance would you do it?"

"No," Ziva replied, almost a little too quickly.

"If it was your boss . . . um, Gibbs?"

"Gosh, no."

"That's exactly my point, Zee," Tali pointed out. "You wouldn't do what Tony or Gibbs asked you to do because you didn't want to, but with father, whatever he asked, you would do."

"That's a bad thing?"

"Yes, if you let it take over your life."

"I didn't."

"Tell me one activity you did growing up that was actually your idea," Tali challenged.

Ziva was silent.

"My point exactly! You never did anything for yourself. It was always to please father. You've been letting him control your life. Letting him dictate it, Zee."

"I don't even talk to him anymore," Ziva pointed out, "so how can he . . .?"

"He's not, Ziva," Tali replied, "he's not controlling you _any more _because you're controlling you. You're finally doing things for you. Mossad and Israel couldn't do that for you, but America and NCSI can."

"It's _NCIS_, Tal, Navel Criminal Investigative Service. It's only NCSI if you're dyslexic."

"Sorry, I get confused."

"I noticed."

"Anyways, N_CIS_ was the best thing to happen to you, Zee."

"It was?"

"Yes, you're happier, more relaxed. Controlling your own life. Doing what you want to do?"

"But I'm still a Mossad officer."

"In name only," Tali replied. "When was the last time you conducted an interrogation and physically harmed your suspect?"

Ziva didn't know what to respond with.

"Exactly," Tali smiled. "In Mossad, that's pretty much all you did. That's pretty much what your whole division did, but now you have _self-control_. Even though you have been trained to extract Intel using force, you pretty much don't anymore."

Ziva looked at Tali.

"It's a good thing, Zee," Tali reassured her, "a really good thing."


	7. Back in the Land of the Living

**Disclaimer:** You know what? I have a new idea. Voodoo. Maybe that'll get rid of _her_. Yes, I'm still on my Jeanne tirade (doesn't it show how much I like her!?!). NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** We finally see the return of prodigal sons (and daughters). Yes, the team make their come back in this chapter. I know I said it would be mostly Ducky, but our other friends needed a look in too. Enjoy :) P.S. Please, please don't shoot me for the medical scene. I tried to research it, but I couldn't find anything I truly understood or wanted so I made it up. I think it sounds believable, even if it's rubbish, but the Cerebellum is real (it's about all I remember for my Psychology class).

Also a big shout out to my wonderful beta, Kandon Kuuson, who made this chappie more detailed. Thanks a lot.

* * *

"You must have control of the authorship of your own destiny. The pen that writes your life story must be held in your own hand." Irene C. Kassorla

* * *

**Chapter Seven:**_ Back in the Land of the Living_

_Present time_

"DiNozzo, McGee," Gibbs snapped as he walked into the bullpen. He had been up with the Director discussing Ziva's condition.

"Yeah, boss," Tony replied as he and McGee looked up from their computers. "Any word on Ziva?"

"It's been half an hour, DiNozzo. I doubt very much that anything has changed."

"But it could have," Tony pointed out, a note of desperation in his voice. McGee failed to notice it, but Gibbs certainly did.

"I know you're worried, Tony, we all are!" Gibbs sighed, sitting down at his desk, "but Ducky's with her and if anything changes, he'll let us know."

"I wanna go down there," Tony stated.

Remembering the conversation he had had with Abby earlier on, Gibbs replied, shaking his head, "No can do, DiNozzo."

"Boss . . ."

"I need you here."

"Why?"

"I just do, Tony!" Gibbs replied sharply. He turned and looked at McGee. "What do we know?"

"Umm . . . Petty Officer Erica Cays, aged twenty-seven," McGee started, her driver's licence filling the plasma screen. Gibbs rose from his seat to examine the image. "Born in Seattle, moved to Washington when she was fifteen. Been with the Navy for five years. She's been posted in Quantico for the past two years, before that, Norfolk. Spotless record, nothing to indicate that she was in any kind of trouble."

"She's lying downstairs, McGee, I think that would count as being in trouble," Gibbs said, turning back to McGee, "anything else?"

"Not much, boss," McGee replied, "she . . . err . . . attended Jackson Grammar School where she was a cheerleader. No police record, not even a parking ticket."

"There must be something, or she wouldn't be lying in autopsy," Gibbs responded, "find it!"

"On it, boss," McGee said affirmatively.

"DiNozzo, with me." Gibbs strolled over to the elevator.

"On your six, boss." Tony rose quickly and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

* * *

"Where are we going, boss?" Tony asked as the elevator doors closed. 

"Abby," was his replied. Gibbs was silent for a moment, before reaching out and flicking the emergency stop switch. The elevator halted and Tony turned and looked at Gibbs.

"Boss . . ."

"What's going on, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked bluntly.

"What?" Tony was confused.

"What's going on between you and Ziva?"

"Wha . . . nothing, boss. We're partners, that's it."

Gibbs looked at Tony like he didn't believe him, his hard stare making Tony shy away for a moment. "Tony . . ."

"There is nothing going on with me and Ziva," Tony said slowly, emphasising each word. "Absolutely nothing. We are friends and partners, nothing more."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Well, you should," Tony snapped. "It's the truth. Rule twelve and all that."

"DiNozzo . . ." Gibbs let out a breathe.

"How many times do I have to say it?" Tony huffed exasperatedly. "We are friends, good friends at that, but nothing more."

Gibbs looked Tony in the eye. "Do you want it to be more?"

"What!?!" Tony practically yelled. "What I want and don't want . . . is none of your business."

"It is when it affects the operation of my team."

"How the hell is it affecting _your_ team?" Tony shouted, trying to make Gibbs understand. "There . . . is . . . nothing . . . going . . . on."

"I know attraction when I see it," Gibbs stated.

"This coming from the guy who's been married and divorced three times," Tony said angrily.

"DiNozzo . . ."

"Don't, just don't." Tony lent over and switched the elevator back on. Tony and Gibbs continued their journey to Abby's lab in silence.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Ducky had been shown into Ziva's Intensive Care room. Distressed by the sight of Ziva lying pale and lifeless in the hospital bed, Ducky pulled up a chair and sat at her bedside. He could hear the hum of the medical equipment that was monitoring Ziva's status. Ducky sighed. 

"Oh, my dear, it's seems you've got yourself into quite the pickle." Ducky said to the unconscious body of Ziva. "Everyone is very worried, I am sure."

Ducky took one of Ziva's hands in his before continuing. "Jethro sounded worse for wear when I talked to him over the phone. Although he doesn't show it, I know he takes it hard when one of his team is injured. Abigail, well, I'm sure Abby is worried. You and her have become quite friendly over the past year. I am glad. Abigail needs female company. She misses Caitlin a lot, they were best friends, you know. I know it seemed like it took a while for her to accept you as part of the team, but you're definitely part of the team in her eyes now."

Ducky studied the machines for a moment, before turning back to Ziva. "You should have seen young Timothy's face when we first got to you. He was first on the scene and he looked horrified. Anthony too. They care about you a lot, probably more than Tony realises. I believe that many think I'm getting older, which I am. Therefore not as perceptive about these things, but I believe that they are wrong."

Ducky chuckled to himself. "Yes, I do believe that Mr Palmer and Agent Lee think I do not notice their _extra-curricular _activities. But one cannot ignore what is staring them in the face. You would think that they would be little more careful. I mean, leaving a pair of panties where anyone could find them. Mr Palmer needs to learn how to clean up after himself, and leopard print too! Well, that is enough of the adventures of Mr Palmer. But you know . . . this reminds me of the time . . ."

Ducky was cut off as the door to Ziva's room opened.

* * *

"Ahh, Dr Mallard." Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins appeared in the doorway. "I thought I might find you here." 

"And found me you did," Ducky replied pleasantly. "What can I do for you, Dr Winchester-Diggins?"

"I have the results from Officer David's CAT scan," he replied

"And . . ." Ducky pressed.

"And we still won't know the full extent of her injuries until she awakes," Dr Winchester-Diggins stated.

"Do you know when that'll be?"

"Sorry, you can't predict things like this."

"Very true!" Ducky nodded understandingly. "What does the scan show?"

"There is some slight greying in the Cerebellum, although we assume that that particular injury will resolve itself," he answered.

"Good, good." Ducky nodded, relaxing slightly as he turned back to Ziva and sighed.

"Are you okay, Dr Mallard?" Dr Winchester-Diggins asked.

"Please, call me Ducky," he replied smiling, "and in response to your question, Ziva is a dear friend and I hate seeing her like this."

Dr Winchester-Diggins looked saddened. "I know what it's like." Ducky looked at him questioningly.

"My younger sister was involved in a car accident ten years ago. She was in a coma for two months before she woke up," he explained.

"Was she okay?"

"After awhile, yes," Dr Winchester-Diggins offered a small smile. "She's happily married now and has two kids. I know I'm not meant to make promises or anything, but Officer David looks strong . . ."

Ducky smiled at Ziva. "That she is."

". . . and if my sister pulled through, so will your friend, Dr Mallard."

"Ducky," the older man prompted.

"Sorry . . . Ducky," Dr Winchester-Diggins said, slightly embarrassed

"Yes, I believe she will. Thank you, Dr Winchester-Diggins."

"If I am to call you Ducky, then you must call me Bart. It's only fair," the young man said, turning around to leave.

"Dr Winchester-Diggins . . ."

"Yes, erm . . . Ducky." Dr Winchester-Diggins stopped in the doorframe and turned his head towards Ducky.

"If you ever get sick of being an ER doctor, I'm sure I could find you something at NCIS." Ducky had taken a liking to this young doctor.

"NCIS, you say." Dr Winchester-Diggins hovered in the doorway. "It's always good to keep my options open. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Ducky." He exited the room and Ducky watched him walk down the hall.

Ducky turned back to Ziva. "I'll just be a minute, my dear. I have a call to make."

* * *

"Jethro," Ducky said after Gibbs answered his cell phone. 

"Duck, how is she?" Gibbs asked immediately. "Have you seen her?"

"There is no change, and yes, I've seen her," Ducky replied.

"And . . ." Gibbs asked, concern in his voice.

"She looks peaceful," Ducky said reassuringly.

"Peaceful!?! Is that all you can say?" Gibbs said incredulously.

"I'm sorry, Jethro, I know as much as the other doctors do."

"Which is?" Gibbs asked sceptically.

"Not much," Ducky answered. "The scan did show some greying in the Cerebellum, but that should rectify itself."

"What?" Gibbs asked, not understanding a word of what was being said.

"Never mind, Jethro," Ducky said, "how is the team."

"Holding up." It was Gibbs' turn to state the obvious.

"Is that all you can say." Ducky re-quoted Gibbs' question.

Gibbs grinned, and then grew serious once again. "Abby was a bit upset, she wanted to come down immediately. So did DiNozzo."

"They're still at HQ?" Ducky asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I need them here."

"Why, Jethro?"

"I need Abby to process the evidence."

"And Tony . . ." Ducky asked, not totally convinced

"Tony is helping McGee figure out which bastard put Ziva in the hospital."

"It's not your fault, Jethro."

"What?"

"I said this is not your fault," Ducky repeated. "You couldn't have known that this would happen."

"They're my team, Duck. You didn't see their faces when I told them about Ziva," Gibbs replied quietly.

"They are worried, they care about Ziva. We all do."

"I know, but after Kate and everything . . ."

"Don't forget about your coma," Ducky added. "That took a huge toll on our team too."

"I hate seeing them like this, Ducky."

"It's a natural parental instinct. All parents hate to see their children like that."

"I'm not their father," Gibbs replied sternly.

"I know, but they're the closest thing you have to family after Shannon and Kelly."

"This shouldn't have happened," Gibbs stated emphatically.

"Maybe not, Jethro, but it did. If it wasn't Ziva, it would have been Anthony or Timothy or yourself. It would have been whoever you sent to check out the back."

"She better be okay, Duck," Gibbs' voice went quite again.

"She's Ziva. I know she will."

A few minutes later, Ducky wandered back into Ziva's room.

"Where were we, my dear?" Ducky questioned, taking Ziva's hand. "Oh, yes, I was about to tell you about the time I walked in on two colleagues of mine back in England. They were much like Mr Palmer and Agent Lee. Trying to hide their relationship. Let me tell you, it was a shock . . ."


	8. Headshot

**Disclaimer:** What other ways are there to get rid of pests in pink scrubs? Maybe I should call in the exterminators, maybe that'll work. Nope, NCIS is not mine (as much as I would like it to be).

**A/N** I borrowed the concept of the swinging secret door from Grace Period (you know the door the bomber appears in). This is similar to that scene and is what I pictured while writing my scene.

Also I would like to thank every single one of my reviewers and readers, especially the ones which have been with me from day one. I love getting your reviews and hearing what you think. I never thought that this story would be so successful (sixty one reviews) so I thank you all for supporting me. This chapter is for you. Also my lovely beta Kandon Kuuson, I couldn't do it without you :)

* * *

"If only. Those must be the two saddest words in the world." - Mercedes Lackey

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**_ Headshot_

_Present time - somewhere in the unknown _

"I still don't agree," Ziva stated plainly for the seventieth time. "Okay, maybe father was telling me what to do, but I was just following orders."

"For the millionth time, Zee," Tali sighed, the frustration showing in her voice, "it's been like that from the beginning."

Ziva opened her mouth to reply, but Kate cut her off.

"Why don't you just accept it?" Kate snapped, sick and tired of talking around in circles. "You've been prepped for Mossad since the very beginning."

"That's not . . ." Ziva trailed off, not willing to believe it.

"Were you ever given the chance to choose what you wanted to be when you grew up?" Roy asked, taking over the conversation before a fight erupted between Kate and Ziva again. He failed.

"Sure, I was," Ziva replied quickly, looking around at the three faces. Tali gave her a _'you're only fooling yourself'_ look.

"Face it, Zee-vah," Kate said, in a perfect imitation of Tony. A weird sensation ripped through Ziva's body, she was unable to identify it. "Mossad has been your…" Kate looked around, trying to find the right words, "well…destiny."

"Destiny?" Ziva scoffed. "Since when was protecting your county destiny?"

"Since it was forced on you," Kate answered hotly.

"It wasn't forced on me," Ziva bit back.

"You really believe that don't you?"

"What else is there to believe?" Ziva replied, her eyes locking with Kate's in silent conflict.

"You could believe us," Roy voiced. "We know these things?"

"Why, because you're dead," Ziva snapped harshly.

"No, because it's there is plain sight, Ziva," Roy replied firmly. "Just look at Ari . . ."

"Don't you dare bring Ari into this," Ziva and Kate yelled at the same time, both glaring at Roy.

"Okay, okay, touchy subject." Roy backed away a little, holding his up hands in defence at the harsh stares.

"Okay, guys, time-out," Tali cut-in loudly, making the time-out sign with her hands. "We are not here to argue. We are here to help Ziva, yes?"

"I guess," Kate muttered.

"Kate . . ." Tali said warningly.

" Fine!" Kate sighed, pursed her lips and folded her arms. She walked over to the couch and sat down in silence.

"Good," Tali said with relief. "Now, watch this, Zee." Tali pointed to the screen and it once again lit up.

* * *

_House of Ra'd Karim, Tel Aviv, August 1999_

"Hirsch, take David and Harel and cover the back," the voice over the radio said. "Nobody gets in or out."

"Yes, sir," Hirsch replied strongly and turned to the two young Mossad officers. "David, Harel, you've got your orders." Hirsch turned abruptly and the two officers who had been Mossad a mere two-weeks shot each other a look before hurrying after their superior officer.

"David, cover the left," Hirsch commanded, pointing to each side of the door as they neared the back entrance, "Harel, the right."

"Yes, sir," Ziva and Adena Harel replied instantly and moved to their positions.

"In place," Hirsch said over his radio, taking position directly in front of the door.

"Wait for my command," the static-y voice replied, "and remember nobody gets in or out."

"Sir," Hirsch replied affirmatively. "David, Harel . . ."

"Got it, sir," Ziva replied quickly and Adena nodded. Hirsch nodded back.

"Team Alpha in position," a female voice transmitted over the radio.

"Team Tango in position," another voice added.

"Wait for my command," came the same voice as before.

"Pssst, Addy," Ziva whispered, making sure that Hirsch couldn't hear.

"What?" she whispered back.

"You scared?" Ziva asked seriously.

"No," Adena replied confidently, "you?"

"Of course not," Ziva stated, "we're trained for this."

"That we are," Adena replied solemnly.

"Stop it," Hirsch hissed angrily, noticing the two young officers were whispering.

"Sorry, sir," Ziva and Adena apologised. Hirsch shot them a look before turning his attention back to the door.

"All units proceed," the radio voice yelled. "Go!"

Hirsch nodded at Ziva who kicked in the door and Adena whipped around the corner, gun pointed at the lone male in the room. Ziva heard two shots being fired and two seconds later Adena's head poked out the door.

"Clear," she said emotionlessly, before disappearing back through the door.

Ziva and Hirsch followed, their guns drawn. Covering one another as they searched for their targets, Ziva saw a body lying on the floor, knowing that he had been shot by Adena. The three Mossad officers inched their way across the back room, pausing just outside the next door. Giving a slight indication of his head, Adena pushed open the door and she and Ziva entered the room. Hirsch followed suit. Looking around the room, Ziva heard the opposite door open and . . .

"Behind you!" Ziva yelled at Hirsch. He spun around and with tremendous accuracy, launched two rounds into the terrorist's heart. Turning away before the body had even hit the ground, Hirsch muttered, "Toda." Ziva nodded in response.

Straightening himself up, Hirsch pointed to the door the dead terrorist had just come through and indicated that Ziva, Adena and he were to exit the room that way.

Adena vacated the room first, followed by Hirsch. Ziva shot the body one last look, taking in the features of the young man, before shaking herself out of it and following her team.

* * *

A steady stream of gunfire echoed throughout the rather large house as Ziva, Adena and Hirsch cleared the rooms in the back. So far, Adena and Hirsch had both taken out two men. Ziva had yet to fire her gun. 

"David, Harel." Hirsch pointed to a closed door and Ziva and Adena obediently made their way over to it. Pushing it open, and being met with a hail of gunfire, Ziva and Adena immediately pushed themselves against the outer wall. Looking at each other and understanding their facial expressions, Ziva and Adena re-entered the room and fired off six rounds. Adena's four rounds killed two men instantly and Ziva's two rounds immobilised another.

Speaking in rapid Arabic, Ziva directed her questions at the remaining terrorist.

"Where is Ra'd Karim?" Ziva asked forcefully, looking at the fallen man in disgust.

"I know nothing," he replied glaringly.

"Why don't I believe you," Ziva retorted harshly, pressing her foot down on his shoulder wound. He flinched.

"No . . ."

Ziva shook her head. "Not good enough." She bent over and grabbed his bloodied arm. Twisting it with a move she had learnt when she was twelve, she replied, "I'll ask you again. Where is Karim?"

"I do not know," he muttered.

"Then I'll end it right here." Ziva cocked her gun and pushed it to his temple. "Last chance."

"He . . . he is not here," the terrorist tried one last time.

"Good-bye," Ziva said and pulled back on the trigger.

"No . . . wait." He looked up and Ziva let go of the trigger.

"Typical men," Ziva scoffed, "always the cowards."

"I am no coward!" he yelled. Ziva put her finger back on the trigger.

"Okay, okay," he mumbled. "There is an underground room."

"Where?"

"Entrance is through the bathroom two doors down," he replied.

Ziva turned and looked at Hirsch, who had amusingly been watching the exchange, and he nodded. Stepping back from the terrorist, Ziva was stunned when two bullets whizzed past her head and buried themselves in the head and heart of the terrorist. Turning away from the falling body, Ziva looked incredulously at Hirsch.

"He served his purpose," Hirsch said flatly and exited the room, without giving the body a second glance.

Even Adena stood rooted to the spot, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. Snapping out of her stupor, Adena motioned to Ziva and proceeded to exit the room just as Hirsch had done. Ziva was still for a moment, taking the time to really look at the young terrorist's face.

"Ziva!" Adena hissed sternly from outside the room. Giving the body one last, almost saddened look, Ziva exited the room.

* * *

After doing a thorough sweep of the underground room and finding it deserted, Ziva, Adena and Hirsch took a moment to collect their thoughts. 

"You all right?" Hirsch asked the two young officers, the first sign of compassion he had shown.

"Of course," Adena stated confidently.

Ziva just nodded, very aware that her voice might betray her. Truthfully, Ziva was exhausted, mentally rather than physically. This was her first major raid since becoming a fully-fledged officer two weeks ago. Although Mossad had prepared her for this, it was nothing like any training manual described.

"Zee?" Adena questioned, snapping Ziva out of her trance.

"I'm fine." Ziva put all her effort into keeping her voice level. Both Adena and Hirsch seemed to buy it. Ziva let out an internal sigh of relief. She didn't need her colleagues thinking that she wasn't cut out for this.

"David," Hirsch began and Ziva nodded to show that she was listening, "I want you to stay here and make sure this room stays secure."

"Yes, sir," Ziva replied obediently, almost relieved that she wouldn't have to go back into the hail of gunfire.

"Harel, you come with me." Hirsch exited the room and after giving Ziva a small smile, Adena rushed after him.

Looking around the room, Ziva sighed. This was not how she had pictured her life. "What have I gotten myself into," Ziva muttered to herself.

She pretty much regretted the way she had extracted the information about this room from the dead terrorist. It was her training that took over her. Ziva paced the room, sure that nobody would be coming any time soon. It was most likely that all the terrorists in this house had been taken out by Mossad officers. It was deathly silent, so the sound of a door creaking open startled Ziva more than it should.

* * *

Ziva spun around, gun drawn, and found herself facing the back of a male figure. Part of the wall had moved and there was a small room situated behind it. 

"Mossad, turn around with your hands where I can see them!" Ziva ordered loudly, her training taking over. She gripped her gun tighter. The figure did not move.

"I said turn around or I will shoot," Ziva commanded with as much authority as she could muster. Slowly, the figure turned around, hands raised in the air.

"Keep turning!" Ziva yelled. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

The figure finished turning around and Ziva found herself face to face with a boy no older than Tali. This threw Ziva for a moment.

_Flashback_

"_Zee, watch out!" fifteen year old Tali yelled happily as she raced past her older sister. Turning, Ziva found herself colliding with Tali's current boyfriend, Jacob. _

"_Sorry, Ziva," Jacob apologised, smiling at the older woman._

"_No problem," Ziva replied, "no harm done."_

"_You sure? I wouldn't want to . . ." he trailed off helplessly._

_"Yes, I am sure," Ziva laughed. "Go, have fun."_

_Jacob gave Ziva another innocent smile and hurried after Tali. He caught up with Tali and wrapped his arms around her. Ziva smiled. _

_End Flashback_

Unfortunately while Ziva was distracted by the sight of the fifteen year old boy, he had managed to wriggle free of his jacket. Underneath was a mass of wires and cylinders, which Ziva immediately recognised as a bomb.

"Don't do it!" Ziva yelled, all of her training flying out the window. "Don't do this."

The boy looked at Ziva and said, "In the name of Allah . . ."

"No!" Ziva shouted as the boy's finger reached for the trigger. Knowing that if he pressed it, she and the rest of the house, including her colleagues, would explode into a million little pieces. "No!"

Slowly, his finger continued to reach for the trigger as if this was a movie playing in slow motion. Without warning or conscious thought, Ziva raised her gun and pulled the trigger.

'Bang.' The bullet exited Ziva's gun and rocketed towards the boy, hitting his squarely in the forehead. The explosive trigger fell harmlessly to the floor and his body followed soon afterwards.

Ziva stared at the scene, unable to move. Her fingers went slack and the gun fell from her grip. She backed away from the body as if it was contaminated. Reaching for the solidness of the wall, Ziva slide down to the ground, unable to tear her eyes away from the body of the fifteen year old teenager. Breathing heavily, Ziva felt the awful sense of guilt creeping into her body.

'_I killed a teenager,'_ she thought. _'I killed a Jacob.'_

She buried her face in her hands. _'If only . . . what have I done?' _But as quickly as these thoughts came, another voice filled her head.

'_Grow up, Ziva, and get over it. He was the enemy and you neutralised him. Think of the consequences. It was kill or be killed. If he had succeeded, you and your colleagues would be dead. It was a job well done,'_ she heard her father say. _'Stop being weak, Ziva. Mossad officers are not weak.'_

"I am not weak," Ziva mumbled to herself. "I have never been weak and I never will."

Picking herself up, she walked over and retrieved her gun. Without a second thought or glance at the body, Ziva exited the room. She was determined that something like this would never happen again. She would not be weak again.


	9. Did I Ever Thank You?

**Disclaimer:** Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne, the bane of my existence (and of the other Tiva fans). Come on already, get rid of her! If NCIS was mine, she would be gone in a heartbeat.

**A/N** This is my first time writing Jenny, so I'm not sure how she turned out. I know a lot of people don't particularly like her, but I've tried not to take other's opinions into consideration when writing this. We haven't seen a lot of her background. Pretty much all we've seen is her and Gibbs in France and the whole debacle with The Frog, so I've tried to keep it believable as much as possible. She is human after all and I don't think she's a particularly horrible person (although Season Four may have altered my view). Also there is one flashback later on in the chapter that may disturb some people. It does insinuate some pretty powerful stuff, but is still appropriate for this rating. Just warning you in advance.

And as always, a big thank you to my beta, Kandon Kuuson. I couldn't do it without you, Jems :)

* * *

"True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it be lost." - Charles Caleb Colton

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**_ Did I Ever Thank You?_

_Present time – Bethesda Naval Hospital_

Her heels clanked on the tiles of the hospital floor as she walked up the hallway of Bethesda's Intensive Care Unit. She strode purposely and determinately . . . she was a woman on a mission. Pausing in front of the reception desk, she pulled out her badge and flashed it at the receptionist.

"Jennifer Shepard, Director of NCIS," Jenny demanded.

"NCIS?" the receptionist questioned, looking perplexed.

"Naval Criminal Investigate Service," Jenny snapped irritably. _'Call yourself a naval hospital,' _she thought and then spoke up. "I wish to see Officer Ziva David. Which room is she in?"

"Err . . ."

"Which room is she in?" Jenny repeated slowly and precisely, resisting the urge to go all Gibbs on the receptionist and Gibbslap her.

The receptionist studied Jenny's outstretched badge for a moment. Jenny sighed.

"I am the _Director_ of NCIS, a _federal _agency," she emphasised director and federal.

"Room one-oh-two," the receptionist finally relented, "down the hall and on your right." She pointed in the direction Jenny had come.

"Thank you," Jenny muttered, more out of habit than anything else.

Turning away from the reception desk, Jenny headed back in the direction she came. Absentmindedly, Jenny's right ring finger's nail made its way into her mouth, a habit she thought she had kicked after becoming Director of NCIS. She let her subconscious nibble on the nail for a moment, before hastily pulling it out of her mouth. Glancing at the now shortened nail, Jenny heard Ziva's voice in her head.

'_Why do you insist on chewing your nails?' Ziva had asked during one of their earlier missions. _

'_Not sure really,' Jenny shrugged, 'nervous habit, I guess.'_

'_Nervous habit?" Ziva looked confused._

'_Never mind,' Jenny laughed._

Reaching room one-oh-two, Jenny's right hand hovered over the doorknob. She reached for it, but then pulled away as if she had been electrocuted.

'_What's wrong with you,'_ Jenny scolded herself mentally. _'You are here to check on one of your subordinates, there's nothing wrong with that.'_

'_But it's more than that,'_ other voice said. _'You worked closely together since 2002. You're close friends.'_

'_Were close friends,'_ Jenny amended. _'I've barely socialised with her since she moved to DC. The job, it's demanding. We've grown apart.'_

'_Then un-grow apart,'_ the voice said. _'Now is the perfect time. Go!'_

Jenny reached for the doorknob for a second time and this time she turned it all the way. Letting out a breath, she carefully pushed open the door and slipped into room one-oh-two.

* * *

"Ducky," Jenny mentioned as she slipped into the room, though she was un-surprised to see NCIS's Medical Examiner sitting next to Ziva. 

"Director," Ducky said, smiling softly at her as he rose from the chair, always the gentleman, "I presume you are here to check on her status?" Ducky gestured to Ziva with his hand.

"Something like that," Jenny replied, looking at Ziva in slight horror. A small, almost inaudible 'Oh, God' left her lips. Ducky picked up on this and gently placed a hand on her arm.

"She's strong, Director."

"You don't think I know that," Jenny snapped and immediately regretted it. She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Ducky."

"There is no need to apologise, my dear," Ducky assured her. "We are all on edge and it's guaranteed that we are all going to get a little snappy."

"But I shouldn't have snapped at you." Jenny looked downcast.

"It's nothing I'm not used to, Director," Ducky replied, a minute grin on his face. "I do work with Jethro."

Jenny managed a small smile. "Do you know . . . have you talked . . . how is . . ." She looked slightly embarrassed as she changed her question so it all became a muddled mess. Ducky knew in an instant what she was talking about, just by the look on her face.

"Jethro is fine," Ducky stated calmly. "Stressed, but fine."

Jenny nodded, trying to process her thoughts. "Good, that's good."

"Haven't you talked to him?" Ducky inquired, shifting closer to the door.

"Yes, but . . ." Jenny trailed off helplessly. Ducky gave her a look of encouragement and Jenny continued, "he was updating me on the case and, well, you know what he's like."

Ducky nodded at her knowingly. "Yes, I do. He hides his feelings under his work I'm afraid, quite an interesting psychological trait in men." Ducky sounded like he was going to ramble into one of his stories so Jenny interjected.

"Other than that," Jenny searched for the right word, "emotionless update, I've been pretty busy."

"How so?"

"I had Tel Aviv screaming at me down the phone for forty five minutes," Jenny sighed, looking defeated. "They wanted to know why Ziva was hospitalised and if they needed to make arrangements."

"Arrangements for what?" Ducky asked, fully knowing what she had meant.

"I'm sure you know," she replied and Ducky nodded affirmatively. "I seriously felt like hanging up on them, but what would that do to the relationship between the agencies. It's already battered enough as it is. Then there was the Israeli Embassy on the phone for another good half hour. At least this time Michael Bashan wasn't so . . . forthright with what he wanted." Jenny sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"I'll leave you to it," Ducky said abruptly, taking Jenny's hand in his own and squeezing it. "She'll be okay, Director." He smiled at her before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

"I hope you're right, Ducky," Jenny said softly.

* * *

Turning to Ziva, Jenny hesitated before making her way over to Ziva's side and sitting down in the chair Ducky had vacated. 

"Oh, Ziva, what have you done to yourself this time?" Jenny reluctantly took Ziva's hand into her own.

_Flashback_

_A slightly younger version of Ziva was sitting next to the bed which held a familiar red-haired agent. _

"_Oh, Jen," Ziva sighed dejectedly, looking at the prone body of Jennifer Shepard. "What did they do to you?"_

_End Flashback_

Jenny was silent for a moment, taking in the sounds of the hospital. Putting her hand on her forehead, she massaged her temples, feeling a headache coming on. They had become a lot more frequent since becoming Director of NCIS. She almost wished Cynthia was here now, handing her an aspirin with water and telling her to take it easy and lie down until it passed. Unfortunately, Jenny never had much of a chance to heed Cynthia's suggestions until she got home.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," Jenny apologised, not only for the fact that she was in hospital, but also because they had drifted apart over the last eighteen months or so.

_Flashback_

"_It's not your fault," Ziva tried to reassure the distressed agent. Jenny had woken up only a few hours ago disorientated and scared out her mind._

"_What did they do to me?" she questioned in a small and meek voice._

_Ziva hesitated. "I'm not sure . . ."_

"_I need to know."_

"_I think," Ziva replied carefully, "that some things are best left unknown."_

_End Flashback._

"You never did fully tell me what happened," Jenny mentioned, remembering snippets from her hospital stay in Cairo, Egypt. "You really saved my behind out there, you know."

She was replied with the sound of machines.

Jenny sighed. "I don't know what would have happened if you and Adena hadn't come along . . ." She remembered little about what she endured while she was abducted in Cairo in 2003, but the few memories she did have were enough to send her retching in a toilet.

_Flashback_

"_I'll ask you one more time," an unknown terrorist asked her, running the handle of his knife down her bare chest. The shirt she had been wearing at the time and her bra had been discarded long ago. "What do you know?"_

_  
"Nothing," Jenny replied defiantly, earning herself a slap across the cheek. "I know nothing."_

_The terrorist chuckled. "Such bravado, Agent Shepard, pity it won't help you now." He glared menacingly at her and for the rest of the hour, her tortured screams drowned out any other sound._

_End Flashback_

Jenny flinched at the memory, trying hard to keep her lunch down and resisting the urge to dive into the nearest shower. Maybe Ziva had been right; maybe it was better not to have known the full story . . . blissful oblivion.

"We really should have caught up more," Jenny said regretfully, a moment later. Her nausea had subsided, but her headache remained. "I should have been there more when you first moved here, but I was so busy. You requested your transfer at pretty much the same time I started as NCIS Director. It was chaos. As well as running a federal agency, I was constantly pursued by the media . . . the first female director of a federal agency was big news."

Jenny listened to the constant hum of the monitors and found that after awhile, they were quite comforting. At least she knew Ziva was still alive.

"But that is no excuse," Jenny stated sadly. "I should have made time for an old friend." Looking at her watch, she cursed because she was late for an appointment.

"I am sorry again, Zee," Jenny used Ziva's nickname, the one she hadn't used since the end of their missions. "I hope you can forgive me." Jenny stood to leave, but turned back to Ziva at the last minute.

"Did I ever thank you?" Jenny questioned, knowing subconsciously that she had thanked her a thousand times over. Just to reassure herself that Ziva's loyalty and, more importantly, her friendship had been recognised, Jenny replied, "Toda."


	10. Loyalty

**Disclaimer:** The American premiere of NCIS season five is drawing closer, so the demise of She Who Must Not Be Named must be soon (I've seen the preview, by the way, and it looks great – pity I'm in Australia and have to wait until next year). Anyways, down with Jeanne and NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** I originally planned this flashback of sorts to be one chapter long, but I decided that it would better serve the purpose by being two shorter chapters so there isn't so much to take in. It's a little slow, but I think it works. This is a continuation of what was said in the previous chapter '_Did I Ever Thank You'_. I hope you enjoy and thanks to my beta, Kandon Kuuson :D

* * *

"Loyalty means nothing unless it has at its heart the absolute principle of self-sacrifice." - Woodrow T. Wilson

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**_ Loyalty_

_Present Time – Somewhere far, far away_

"Don't you see, Ziva? Tali tried again, looking desperately at her older sister.

"See what?" Ziva asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"That!" Tali yelled and pointed to the blank screen.

"It's dark, Tal, what's there to see?"

Tali sighed exasperatedly. "Why do you insist on making things so difficult? Okay, let me smell . . ."

"Spell, Tali," Roy corrected with a smile.

"Whatever." Tali brushed his comment aside in a very Ziva-like manner; the two sisters were more alike than they realised. "I will _spell_ it out for you. Father trained us from the beginning to work for Mossad. Hell, he groomed our brother . . ."

"_Half_-brother!" Ziva all but yelled.

At the same time, Kate glared at Tali. "Don't bring him into this!"

Ignoring the comments, Tali continued, "He made _Ari," _– Kate and Ziva shot Tali murderous glances, she ignored them – "into a spy. Do you think he would have done what he did if father hadn't pushed . . .?"

Both Ziva and Kate opened their mouths to argue, but Tali was too quick and silenced them with a wave of her hand.

"This is _not_ about Ari!" Tali said sternly, glaring at the two women. "This is not about what he did to Kate or to Agent Gibbs' team." She looked pointedly at Kate. "Or what he did to Israel and Mossad, and it is certainly not about what happened to him." This time she looked at Ziva. "This is about you, Ziva. Yes, Ari is part of it, but he is not the subject of this discussion. I was merely making a point."

Roy watched the exchange with an amused expression. Unable to help himself, he interrupted, "And I thought testosterone males were bad enough . . . I guess I was wrong." His comment stopped all three women in their tracks. One by one, they turned and looked at him.

"What?" he shrugged. "It's true! Being stuck in a room with three times the normal amount of oestrogen is not all that it's cracked up to be."

"Do you want to find out what three times the normal amount of oestrogen can do?" Tali threatened, the argument momentarily forgotten.

"It was just an observation." Roy backed away; he was digging himself deeper into a hole. He raised his hands in surrender as the three women glared icily at him. "Anyway . . ." he started, trying to get the women to forget their argument, "you did learn one good thing from your father."

"What might that be?" Ziva asked.

"Loyalty," was Roy curt reply.

"Loyalty?"

"Yes, loyalty," Roy repeated. "Loyalty for your colleagues, but, most importantly, loyalty for your friends."

"Whaa . . ." Ziva was confused. '_Who was he talking about? Jenny?' _she wondered._ 'Tony?'_

"Do you think if you weren't loyal to Director Shepard, you would have gone back for her?" Roy asked emotionally.

"Yes," Ziva replied sharply. She relaxed as Roy spelt it out to her.

"Are you sure?" Roy questioned. "You knew Mossad's reasoning was valid, it was what was expected. The best of the best leave no trail! But you went off anyway, and saved her life. Any other officer and you'd have a different Director of NCIS."

Ziva was prepared to argue, but Roy pointed to the screen.

"Watch."

* * *

_Central Point Hospital, Cairo, Egypt, October 2003_

Ziva groaned as she emerged from a groggy slumber. Struggling to open her eyes, she heard the all too familiar beeps of the hospital machinery. Ziva groaned again and opened her eyes, only to be blasted with a shower of bright light. Blinking a few times, Ziva's vision cleared. She looked over to a chair across the room and saw her former boss, Maor Hirsch, reading a local newspaper. Ziva groaned yet again, but this time it was for different reasons. Hirsch looked up at the sudden sounds.

"Officer David,' he said emotionlessly, neatly folding the paper and walking over to her bedside, "you're awake."

"Well spotted," Ziva mumbled sarcastically, earning a smirk from Hirsch.

"Aren't we just the charmer," Hirsch replied.

Ziva grumbled, "What did I do to earn the company of Mossad's finest?"

Hirsch looked down at her. "You don't remember?"

"We were after Jahan Ahmed," Ziva remembered slowly, thinking back, "Jen and I. We were outside his sister's house, surveillance. Then . . ."

_Flashback_

"_Jen, down!" was the first thing Ziva yelled after seeing the flash of silver. They were sitting in a run down car, surveying Jahan Ahmed's sister's house, when the first bullets penetrated the car. _

"_Jen!" Ziva yelled again, diving into the back seat and pulling out her gun. She aimed in the direction the bullets had come from and fired. Ziva received no answer from Jenny, but was unable to look around for her partner as a fresh round of bullets pierced the car. _

_Running out of ammunition, Ziva reached for her back-up clip and jammed in into her gun. Unfortunately, a bullet decided it was the perfect time and struck her shoulder. Yelling out in surprise, Ziva toppled back into the backrest of the car seat. _

_End Flashback_

"Jen," Ziva gasped in horror and turned to Hirsch, "where is she?"

"Taken," Hirsch replied flatly.

"What do you mean taken?" Ziva asked forcefully.

"Agent Shepard was gone when we recovered you," Hirsch replied in the same voice. "We believe that Ahmed and his men ambushed the car. There was a lot of blood on your clothes, so they must have accounted for you as dead. It would also appear that they took Shepard."

"What!" Ziva yelled disbelievingly.

"Unless Shepard has gone AWOL, she was taken," Hirsch repeated.

"What are you doing then?" Ziva asked, going into Mossad officer mode.

"Nothing." Hirsch's voice was like a sharp razor sliding across his victim's neck.

"What do you mean nothing?" Ziva questioned, her voice getting a little louder.

"I mean exactly what I said," Hirsch replied coolly. "You know just as well as the rest of us that Ahmed will pump her for information and then pump her with bullets."

"So you're just doing nothing?" Ziva's voice had a slight tinge of hysteria.

"There is nothing that can be done," Hirsch said calmly.

"Nothing!" Ziva shrieked. "So you are just going to leave her."

"Yes, there is nothing more we can do," Hirsch replied. "We will let our friends in America know that Agent Shepard served her . . ."

"Oh, because that'll go down so well with the Americans," Ziva said sarcastically. "She died for her country . . . I doubt the Naval Criminal Investigative Service will be pleased with that."

"We will send our condolences . . ." Hirsch began.

"And that'll make it all better." Ziva was now riled and angry. "Sure it will, Hirsch."

"David . . ." Hirsch said warningly.

"No. Don't. Just . . . just go," Ziva snapped and pointed to the door with her uninjured arm.

"I am here to guard you." Hirsch didn't move.

"Then guard me from outside!" Ziva shouted. "Do you want me to call my father?" Ziva knew the father line would work and Hirsch reluctantly left the room.

"I will be outside," he said before he disappeared.

Ziva sighed and looked out the small hospital window. "Where are you, Jen?"

* * *

Sliding her legs from under the covers and resisting the urge to moan as a spasm of pain rocketed up her left arm; Ziva put her feet on the linoleum floor and padded over to the pile she recognised as her clothes. Fishing in the pocket of her bloodied jeans, Ziva grasped her cell and silently removed it from her jeans. Checking to make sure it still worked, she pressed speed dial one and put the phone to her ear. 

"Ziva!" Adena exclaimed as she answered the phone. "I thought you were in surgery?"

"Surgery?" Ziva repeated stupidly.

"Yeah, you were shot pretty badly," Adena explained, and then remembered to whom she was talking to. "Oh, gosh, are you okay?"

"Would I be talking to you if I was not okay?" Ziva was met with silence. "I'm okay, Addy, but Jen's not."

"What?" Adena asked. Although she was in Cairo, she was working another part of the mission and had only found out about Ziva in passing.

"Ahmed's got her," Ziva stated.

"What?" Adena said for the second time.

"We were ambushed. I was shot and Jen was abducted," Ziva replied.

"What's happening?" Adena asked, and Ziva knew what she meant.

"Nothing," she said bitterly.

"Nothing?" Adena echoed.

"Yeah, you know Mossad," Ziva muttered darkly, "someone goes, we get somebody new."

"That's . . . that's not . . . fair." Adena struggled for the correct words, but knew that what Ziva was saying made sense and fitted Mossad to the tee.

"That's why I need your help," Ziva said suddenly, catching Adena's attention.

"Huh?"

"I need you to come and help me get out of here," Ziva said quickly.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Addy," Ziva said.

"Are you out of your mind?" Adena hissed. "You've just had major surgery. No way should you be breaking out of hospital."

"Jen's in trouble, Ad," Ziva stated. "Mossad isn't doing anything so I have to do it."

"But, Zee . . ."

"No, Adena," Ziva said strongly and firmly, "I am not leaving her. I will make sure I find her, no matter what state she's in. I won't give up."

"That's very noble of you, but how . . ."

"Don't doubt me, Addy," Ziva said coldly. "You are either in or out. You're the only one I can trust. I will do it on my own if I have to."

"Ziva . . ."

"Don't try and talk me out of it," Ziva said stubbornly. "Jen is my friend. I don't leave my friends behind."

Adena sighed on the other end of the phone. "How do you expect to rescue Jenny if you're half injured yourself?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," Ziva said defiantly. "Are you in or not?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then, "Count me in, Zee. Let's do it."


	11. Bringing Her Home

**Disclaimer:** Jeanne, gone? No, damn, my dreams haven't come true. _Sigh_, NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** I know it seems like I've dragged this out for a few chapters, but honestly, it was fun to write :) I wanted to do this particular event justice so I developed it more. I know it's longer that what I normally do, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. As always, thanks to my beta, Kandon Kuuson. You're the best :D

* * *

"A good friend is hard to find, hard to lose, and impossible to forget..." - Unknown

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**_ Bringing Her Home_

_Central Point Hospital, Cairo, Egypt, October 2003_

Ziva was laying in her bed; she had just asked her doctor when her next check-up would be. Thinking that Ziva wanted to get some sleep, the doctor had assured her that she would be undisturbed for the next few hours. However, Ziva had no intention of doing so. It was possibly the furthest thing from her mind. Right now, Jenny Shepard was her only concern.

After she had disconnected the call with Adena, Ziva had checked her clothes, looking to see if anything was still usable. She discovered that her gun and her back up were gone, but was relieved to find her knife lying underneath her shirt. Taking the knife and her cell phone with her, Ziva clambered back into bed, just as the doctor had entered the room. Now she was waiting for Adena to arrive and was hoping that she had enough sense to bring a change of clothes.

"Ziva," came a hushed whisper. A hand carefully and quietly pushed open the door and Adena Harel slid effortlessly into the room.

"Addy," Ziva acknowledged. "Hirsch . . .?"

Adena offered a three-worded answer with a sly grin. "Not a problem."

"Whaa . . ." Ziva started, but Adena cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"The less people that know, the better," she muttered. Ziva looked at her curiously and Adena sighed. "I didn't kill him. He'll be fine in a few hours."

Ziva nodded in understanding. "Did you bring . . ."

"One step ahead of you, Zee," Adena replied before Ziva could finish. Offering Ziva her backpack, Adena gestured to the bathroom, indicating that Ziva should change into the outfit she had brought.

"Toda," Ziva replied before exiting the room. As soon as she had disappeared, Adena's cell phone rang. She picked it up.

"You got it?" Adena asked, without greeting the person on the other end.

"Not even a shalom for an old friend?" the person on the other end mocked. "How impolite, Adena."

"I don't have time for this, Ari," Adena hissed. "I didn't want to call you in the first place, but you're the only one that can get me what I want . . . and fast."

"How you flatter me," Ari replied happily from the other end of the phone.

"Just . . . tell . . . me," Adena muttered through clenched teeth. She had come along since her schoolgirl crush on Ari Haswari.

"Why is this . . . Agent Shepard . . ." Ari seemed uninterested in who the information was benefiting. "Why is she so important?"

"You'll have to ask you sister," Adena replied curtly. "Look, do you have it or not?"

Ari exhaled heavily on the other end. "Patience is a virtue, Adena."

"Ari," Adena said angrily, "stop messing around! Do you have Ahmed's location?"

Ari sighed on the other end of the phone. "He's in a house, west side."

"Is that all?" Adena knew that it was still a lot of houses to get through.

"Patience, Adena." There was boyish humour in his voice

Adena flexed her hand angrily. Ari was seriously getting on her nerves. "If you don't give the location now . . ."

"No need to get so violent, Adena," was Ari's smooth reply. "Here's the address." Ari rattled off the address of a house in what Adena knew to be a run down neighbourhood.

"Toda," Adena replied before hanging up the phone.

The door to the bathroom opened and Ziva stepped out wearing fresh clothes. "You ready?"

Adena nodded and sensed what Ziva was about to ask. "They're in the car." Adena was referring to Ziva's choice of weapons. "Too risky."

"Good," Ziva replied, walking over to the door. "Let's do it."

* * *

_House of Jahan Ahmed, Cairo, Egypt, October 2003  
_

"You sure this is the right address," Ziva asked as Adena pulled up about 200m from the run down house.

"Yes, my contact was very sure." Ziva knew better than to ask who her contact was, it was an unspoken policy not to tread on the toes of another officer's informant.

Ziva nodded affirmatively. "Jen is here?"

"She should be," Adena replied, "at least according to my contact."

Ziva nodded again. "Good. Layout?"

"Not sure, but I think it's typical housing trust house." Adena reached into the back of the car and grabbed a rolled up piece of paper. "Blueprints for a standard housing trust house." Adena spread open the sheet and started to point out various features.

"There will be at least two guards at each door," Adena said as she pointed to the two doors of the house.

"It's most likely she's in a basement or such," Ziva added, looking at the blueprint.

"Right," Adena agreed, "and there will be at least two guarding her, not including the interrogators."

"Two, three interrogators," Ziva estimated.

"Yes, plus a couple of runners," Adena added. "All up that makes . . ."

"About eleven of them, give or take," Ziva finished for her. She noticed Adena looked pensive.

"Addy?" she questioned.

"Are you sure we shouldn't get back-up?" Adena asked, after a moment's silence. "I mean in there it'll be five or so to one and you can only shoot with one arm. That's practically suicidal."

"Ad, they've had Jen for . . ." Ziva trailed off. She realised she didn't know how long the terrorists had had Jen or how long she had been out.

"Forty eight hours," Adena answered softly. Ziva closed her eyes. That was forty eight hours to long. Forty eight hours was the longest period of time a good agent could hold up under interrogation. Who knows what they had done to Jenny. A million different interrogation techniques ran through her head, each one worse than the previous.

"Zee," Adena said softly, brining Ziva back into reality. Ziva opened her eyes. "Jen is strong, Zee." Adena reached out and took Ziva's hand. "And she's got you. Mossad has given up on her, but you haven't. You're loyal to your friends, Ziva, you'd never leave any of them behind."

Ziva sighed sadly, but nodded strongly. "Let's do it."

* * *

The car doors opened and Ziva and Adena stepped onto the cracked footpath. Popping the trunk of the car, Adena handed Ziva a back-up gun, which she immediately placed in her ankle holster. Taking one for herself, both women screwed silencers to their main side arms. Adena checked to make sure that her side arm was securely in place. It was tactful when taking on eleven men to be as stealthy as possible. Silencers would also give them an element of surprise. She handed Ziva a couple of extra clips, knowing that they would most probably need them. 

"You good to go?" Adena asked as she shut the trunk of the car. Ziva nodded in reply. "Good. We will advance from the front, a direct approach."

"You take out front guards," Ziva stated, "silently. Then we surprise the back guards, keeping an eye out for the runners. We cannot let them alert the others."

"Right, and whatever we do, we stay together," Adena mentioned firmly. "We have more chances of taking them out together. One of us goes down; we can back each other up."

"Yes," Ziva nodded, holstering her gun. They had a better plan than just flying blindly and going in guns blazing. "Move out."

Adena and Ziva moved away from the car and carefully inched their way along the cracked footpath, careful to stay in the shadows. Reaching the house, they could see two men sitting on the front porch. Although no weapons were visible, both Ziva and Adena knew where they were packing immediately. Adena pointed to her hip and shoulder, Ziva nodded in agreement.

Adena reached for her hair tie and shook her long brown hair so it cascaded down her back. She unbuttoned her shirt, a little more than what would be considered modest. Clearly showing enough cleavage to get the guards' attention, Adena wiggled her hips and headed towards the guards. Ziva had to stifle a giggle as she watched Adena walk seductively to the guards. Adena was the best honeytrap officer Mossad had, she was a natural. How many subjects she had seduced was unknown.

Ziva was unable to hear what Adena was saying to the guards, but could clearly see that she enthralled both. Almost like they were hypnotised, Adena coxed them away from the door and around the side. Quickly and efficiently, Adena drew her silenced side arm and fired two rounds, both hitting their mark. They fell backwards, never comprehending what had just happened. As Adena gestured to Ziva, indicating that it was clear and it was okay for Ziva to join her, a spasm of pain flew down her shoulder to her arm. Ziva grunted in pain, but ignored it. She knew losing Jenny would hurt a lot more than a superficial injury would.

* * *

"It's locked," Adena said as Ziva joined her on the porch. The two guards lay to their right, forgotten. 

"No problem." Ziva skilfully picked the lock with one hand, making no sound as she did so.

"Show-off," Adena muttered good naturedly as Ziva quietly pushed open the door.

"What can I say," Ziva smiled and Adena rolled her eyes.

Carefully entering the house, guns at the ready, the two Mossad officers found the hallway empty. Tilting her head to the left, Ziva opened the closest door and was not surprised to find it empty.

"Clear," she whispered.

They checked the rest of the rooms, all were empty, but Ziva and Adena had expected this. As they neared the end of the hallway, two different voices wafted through the wall.

". . . still . . . not broken," one voice said.

"Making . . . hard . . . Boulos," the other replied. "Waste of . . . whatever . . . American whore."

Adena felt Ziva tense up at their words. She put a reassuring hand on her shoulder; this was no time to get angry.

". . . Boulos . . . said . . . not working . . ." the first one continued to say.

"Violated . . . no . . . still . . . not work," the second voice said.

Adena could feel the anger radiating off Ziva, and she knew the look on Ziva's face.

"No, Ziva," she said firmly, gripping Ziva's wrist. "Do not get overzealous."

"I'm . . ." Adena's hard stare cut her off.

"Don't," Adena snapped. "This is what we're doing. Judging from their voices, they are probably on the opposite side of the room. We will enter swiftly and silently and take them out, yes?"

Ziva nodded in response. They stepped over to the door and with a nod of her head, Adena pushed open the door and the two officers entered the room.

The two young terrorists only had time to open their mouths before bullets slammed into both of their heads. Like the two guards outside, they slid to the ground . . . dead. Walking over to one of the terrorists, the one Ziva believed had bad mouthed Jenny, Ziva aimed her gun and fired between his legs.

"That is for Jenny," Ziva muttered harshly and re-aimed her gun at another part of his body.

"Ziva, no." Adena gently placed her hand on Ziva's gun and manoeuvred it away from the bodies. "It's not worth it."

"But . . ." Ziva trailed off helplessly. Adena could see her eyes were watery.

"Ziva, look at me." Adena lifted Ziva's chin up so their eyes met. "Let's go get our girl, but going off half _locked_ is not the way to do it."

Ziva offered a small smile. "That doesn't sound right."

Adena sighed. "Stupid American idioms, what's the point? I should've spent more time in America."

* * *

After silencing the two rear guards by snapping their necks, a technique Ziva was particularly good at, Adena found stairs, which she assumed led to the basement. Putting her ear to the door, she was unable to hear any sounds coming from it. 

"It sounds empty," Adena stated, "which can be a good thing or a bad thing."

"Yeah," Ziva agreed. "At least we know Jenny is alone and we won't be outnumbered . . ."

"But they could also come back at anytime and take us be surprise," Adena finished, "and it will be harder to defend ourselves once we have Jenny also."

"We'll worry about that when we come to it," Ziva said firmly. "Our main priority is Jen."

"Yes, as it should be," Adena agreed and started to descend the stairs carefully. Ziva followed.

Coming to yet another locked door, Ziva used her one handed lock picking skills to successfully unlock the door. Taking a deep breath and gripping her gun tighter, Ziva hesitantly pushed open the door.

"Oh, Jen," was the first thing out of Ziva's mouth. Slumped over in the middle of the room was Agent Jennifer Shepard. Her wrists were tied together behind the chair and she was unmoving. As Ziva got closer to the chair, she noticed that Jenny was half-naked. A terrifying thought entered her mind, which she immediately hoped was untrue. Adena wisely kept her distance from Ziva and Jenny, knowing that they had to do it their way. Plus, they needed someone to keep an eye out for trouble.

"Jen," Ziva said very softly, carefully placing a hand on the older woman's shoulder. Then she moved to her neck, searching for a pulse. The body under Ziva's hand jerked away, flinching at her touch.

"No . . ." she breathed, shying away from Ziva. "Please . . ."

"Jen, Jen," Ziva repeated softly. She pulled her knife out and began to cut through the ropes on Jenny's wrist. "It's okay, it's okay. It's Ziva. It's all right."

"Ziva . . ." Jenny muttered weakly. ". . . No . . . Ziva . . . dead."

Ziva blanched at what the terrorists must have told her. "Jen, it's okay. I'm not dead. I'm okay. I'm not dead." Ziva repeated herself desperately, finally cutting Jenny's restraints. "Jen . . ."

"Dead . . ." Jenny said again.

"No, not dead," Ziva replied firmly, stepping around the woman so that she was standing in front of her. "Look at me, Jen." Mirroring Adena's earlier actions, Ziva lifted Jenny's chin so that she could see her face. "I'm here, Jen, it's okay." Ziva gently pushed Jenny's fringe out of her face.

"Mmmm . . . Ziva," Jenny mumbled weakly, falling forward. Quick reflexes meant Ziva caught Jenny in her arms. Pain shot through her shoulder, Ziva grimaced slightly.

"Addy," Ziva asked weakly, trying to support Jenny's weight. Without saying a word, Adena slipped her arm around Jenny's other side. Making sure that they could still shoot if they needed to, Ziva and Adena guided a barely conscious Jenny towards to the stairs.

"Let's go home."


	12. Family

**Disclaimer:** I'm not going to even say her name. In my world, she does not exist. In my world, I wish NCIS was mine, but it's not.

**A/N** I'm not that pleased with this chapter, but I couldn't do it any other way. For me, McGee is the hardest character to write. Tony and Ziva, especially together, yes, but McGee no. That's why my stories (and future stories) tend to be focused around those two. Even Gibbs is easier for me. This chapter probably took me the longest to write, I hit quite a few blocks trying to write it. I tried, I guess, but I still don't think I can write McGee decently. Oh, well, enjoy if you can. Thanks to Kandon Kuuson for all his betaing work he does for me :D

* * *

"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family: Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." - Jane Howard

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**Family 

_Present Time – Bethesda Naval Hospital_

"You can go in, you know," a voice said, making the lone figure standing outside the door jump as if he had been caught in an act of crime. "In fact, we encourage it."

Timothy McGee slowly turned around and found himself staring into the eyes of an older blonde nurse. "I . . . err . . . um . . . thanks." McGee was like a deer caught in the headlights.

"She's quite popular, you know," the nurse continued, smiling at McGee. "She's already had quite a few visitors. I can see why though. Such a pretty girl, she must be special to a lot of people."

"Yes," McGee replied firmly, momentarily forgetting that he'd rather be anywhere but here, "she is."

The nurse smiled brightly. "Good, good. It's so nice to have people who care. You wouldn't know how many poor, poor people we get through here with no one to . . ."

McGee offered the nurse a small smile; she would give Ducky a run for his money any day. "Erm . . . I . . ."

"You okay, dear?" the nurse questioned, finally noticing that McGee looked a little green.

"Um . . . yeah, I guess." McGee didn't sound convincing.

"Your girlfriend?" she guessed sympathetically. "It's always the loved ones which are the hardest to see."

"No, no girlfriend," McGee managed to say, startled by the question, "just friend."

"Well, she's lucky to have a good friend like you," the nurse replied with a smile. Her smile, however, dropped off a little when she saw McGee's worried face.

"She's not going to give up that easily," she said softly. "I know it looks scary, but it really isn't. She's just sleeping, in a way. That's what we tell the youngsters anyways."

McGee nodded, closed his eyes and sighed.

"She looks like a strong one, she does," the nurse reassured McGee, "especially since she has a family like you."

"Family . . ." McGee looked bewildered. "She's not . . . I'm not . . . we're not . . ."

"I know, dear," the nurse said gently, placing a hand on McGee's shoulder, "but in the wise words of Johann Schiller: _'It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.' _Well, in this case it's brothers and sisters."

McGee smiled weakly at the nurse, and hesitated.

"Go." She pushed McGee gently towards the door. "Talk to her, read to her, hell, sing to her. Just let her know that you are there and that you care."

"But . . ." McGee trailed off weakly.

"No buts," the nurse said firmly. Seeing that McGee wasn't going to help himself, she pushed open the door and pretty much forcibly pulled McGee into the room.

"Stay. Talk. Sing. Whatever," she said as she closed the door. "If I see you in the next half an hour, you don't want to know." She shut the door quietly, leaving McGee alone with Ziva.

* * *

"Err . . . hi," McGee said stupidly from the doorway. He spotted the chair that the Director had occupied only a few minutes beforehand. Cautiously making his way over to it, he hesitated before sitting down. 

Not sure what to do next, McGee ran his hands over his face and blurted out, "Tony is even crazier without you. Movie quotes are coming in left, right and centre. Gibbs is scary and dangerous, I think. He yells at everything that moves, and everything that doesn't move too. Abby's sad, Abby isn't a sad person. Abby is happy, Abby is Abby. Abby's not Abby . . . Try saying that fast . . . Abby'ssad,Abbyisn'tasadperson.Abby . . ."

McGee laughed nervously. "I . . . err . . . get better soon," he finished weakly. McGee buried his face is his hands.

"I didn't want to come here," his muffled voice said, but immediately felt Ziva's gaze on his shoulder, even though she was in a coma. "No . . . no, I don't mean it like that. I mean I did . . . but I didn't. I mean, you . . . hospital . . . sorry."

McGee laughed nervously again. "You know, Gibbs would be saying right now: 'don't apologise, it's a sign of weakness' . . . but I'm sorry. Maybe if I'd gotten to you quicker . . . maybe . . . I don't know . . . you would be okay?"

'_It's not your fault, McGee,'_ he could almost hear her say.

"But . . ." McGee said, the tiredness seeping through his voice. "Maybe if I called the ambulance sooner, called Gibbs sooner . . . done something different. You're . . . you're lying there . . . here. Just . . . there . . . just . . . Kate."

'_I'm not Kate.'_ He could almost hear the contempt in her voice.

"No . . . not Kate," McGee mumbled. "You have no bullet in your . . . you're still alive. Seeing you here now . . . makes me miss, Kate even more . . . I'm sorry that came out wrong. I mean, you're two separate people . . . uh Tony doesn't admit it, but uh . . . forget Tony. Forget everything I just said. Kate's dead. Kate's in the ground being chewed by mag . . ." McGee only just made it to the small bathroom before the little he'd eaten that day graced his sights again.

McGee groaned. He slowly lifted his head, though it felt like his head had suddenly been replaced with bricks. Stumbling over to the sink, he rinsed his mouth out a couple times before wearily making his way back over to Ziva's bedside.

"Sorry, 'bout that," he apologised weakly, sitting back down in the chair. He slumped over in the chair, still feeling a little sick. "You know me . . ."

McGee sighed, and straightened himself up a little. "Oh, Ziva . . . we don't need this. I mean, we definitely need you, but not you like this. You hafta get better. We already lost Kate. We lost . . ." He remembered the nurse's words: _'It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons'. _"We lost . . . part of our family. We can't do . . . have . . . that again.

* * *

"Yeah, family," McGee continued, finally feeling a little comfortable sitting with a comatose Ziva. "Kate was like, you know, the older sister. Smart, funny, a little bossy, but great to be with, someone to look up to. She always looked out for me when Tony was being a jerk . . . sorry that came out wrong. . . you know what I mean, though. She and Tony could go at it better than an old married couple." McGee smiled at the memory. 

"When she died," McGee continued, "it was like losing a sister, not only a friend. We had to bury a member of _our_ family. Do you know how hard that is?"

Ziva didn't reply.

"I guess you don't," was McGee's conclusion, oblivious that Ziva had buried not only a sister, but a brother, a mother and a whole host of friends and colleagues.

"God, when Kate died, it was like the end of the world," McGee stated sadly, looking at his feet, "especially for Abby and Tony and Gibbs. We had to bury her, we weren't meant to bury her. Then you came along, like the long lost sister."

McGee continued with his family analogy. "I was angry at first. I wanted Ari as much as Gibbs and Tony did and there you were, trying to stop Gibbs from whacking him. Yet, things changed. Gibbs killed Ari and you were placed on our team.

"I know it didn't seem like we accepted you, especially Abby, but we were grieving for Kate. I guess I was the one who snapped out of it the earliest. I . . . I guess I hadn't been around Kate as long as the others, but still . . ." McGee trailed off and listened to the sounds of the humming machines.

"But you're part of the family now, Ziva," McGee concluded. "Even Abby likes you. Everyone is really worried about you."

McGee sighed loudly. "I'm not good at doing this kind of thing. I bet Tony would be spouting off a million movie references, or Ducky would be telling a story. They're good at that kind of thing, I'm better with computers."

McGee looked thoughtful, tilting his head to the side. "I guess that would make me the geeky younger brother," he mused, "and Tony, I guess he would be the older brother. Flirting with the girls, silly movie references, getting in the most trouble, that's definitely Tony. Abby's like the little sister, the one everybody loves and wants to protect. Definitely the little sister, she gets away with the most."

"That brings us to the dad," McGee said, nodding his head forward the way he usually did when he explained things to people. "I think that would be Gibbs, though he'd probably deny it furiously. Yes, he spoils the littlest, Abby, and offers 'tough love' to the rest of us. No doubt, he's probably Gibbslapping me now for saying it. That makes Ducky the grandpa. The eccentric, story telling grandpa, but a wise man good for advice. Then Palmer . . . he's like the cousin, the awkward cousin. He's just there. Nobody knows where he comes from, but he's there and that's okay. As for the Director, I guess she could be the mother, but it means that she should be the mother to the whole agency . . . you know, being the director and all. Maybe the step-mum? She and Gibbs . . . well, there is or was definitely something there . . ."

McGee shifted in his seat as he finished his family analogy. He looked at his watch. Half an hour had passed since he had first stepped into Ziva's room.

'_I bet Gibbs is . . .'_ McGee thought, but was cut off by the shrill sound of his cell phone. Fishing it out of his pocket, McGee looked at the ID. _Boss_, it said.

He smiled knowingly at Ziva. "Definitely the father.


	13. Remembering the Good

**Disclaimer:** Well, I know what happens on American screens, so all I can say is thank god for that :D Pity I have to wait till next year to see it. If NCIS was mine, it would be fast tracked to Aussie screens like a dozen of other shows on ten and seven, but it's not so I'm not gonna get my wish :(

**A/N** Sorry about the late update. I've been busy. It's holidays now so it should be easier to find time to write. Also, be on the look out for my three upcoming fics: _Drowning On Dry Land_, _Iced In_ and _Tower of Strength_. Summaries can be found in my profile. Thanks always to by Beta, Kandon Kuuson :D

* * *

'The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.' - Thomas Jefferson

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**_ Remembering the Good _

_Present Time – Reflection _

Ziva closed her eyes tightly and sighed as she watched her younger self and Adena carry Jenny up the stairs. This was a period in her lifetime she'd rather forget.

'_I should never have let that happen,'_ Ziva thought. _'I should have been on guard. Jen should have never been in that position . . . I should have never been in that position."_

"Zee," Tali whispered, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. Ziva's eyes shot open. "It wasn't your fault. How could it be? You were wounded . . . and in hospital."

Ziva looked at Tali blankly. "I know that."

"Do you?" Tali replied, looking intently at her sister. "C'mon, Zee, I wasn't your sister for sixteen years for nothing, you know. I can tell."

"How can you tell?" Ziva snapped harshly. "You'd been dead for three years by that time."

Tali turned away, looked at the floor and started to twirl her fringe around her finger. This, as Ziva knew all to well, was Tali's painstakingly obvious sign that she had been hurt by her comment.

Ziva sighed. "Look . . . Tal . . . I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean it like that, it was a . . . snip – no – lick – no – snake – no . . . something to do with the tongue, yes?"

"Slip of the tongue?" Roy supplied with a smile.

"Yes, that," Ziva said gratefully, pointing at him, a gesture that endeared her to Tony, "thank you. It was a _slip_ of the tongue, Tal."

Tali looked up. "Yeah, you were always talking before thinking," she said with a small smile, but then her smile faded. "I have been keeping tabs on you, you know. We're not completely isolated here. I know Roy looks out for you . . . and Kate for her team."

"Really?" Ziva questioned, looking into the eyes of the man that had crept into her heart during those few days at the hospital.

"Oh, yeah," Roy answered for Tali. "You're always hearing stories about family members seeing dead loved ones in their time of need. How do you think they get there?"

"I didn't know that," Ziva stated.

"Well, obviously," Kate replied, "you're not dead."

"Thank goodness for that," Ziva muttered under her breath and glared at Kate. Then she spoke up. "It's only for family members, yes?"

"Not all the time," Roy answered, "but mostly. It's who most people feel closest too."

Ziva snorted. "Oh, yeah, because everyone is close to their families."

"Ziva . . ."

Ziva ignored Roy and continued. "Let's take my family for example. Two out of three kids are dead, two out of two wives are dead and the one father is more concerned about his job than his remaining family. One was a terrorist, one was killed in a bombing, one died in child birth, _and one was a traitor_," Ziva repeated for effect. "That doesn't exactly paint a perfect photo."

"Picture, Ziva," Roy corrected automatically. It reminded Ziva of Tony, he was always correcting her English mistakes.

'_I wonder if he's worried?'_ She let her mind wander. _'Nah, he's probably still kicking . . . no . . . ticking . . . that's it . . . ticking off Gibbs.'_

A hand on her shoulder jerked Ziva back into reality.

"We're not all that bad, Zee," Tali said softly. "I can't help it that some maniac decided to blow himself up in that restaurant."

"I didn't mean you were bad, Tal," Ziva amended. "You were probably the best out of all of us."

"That's not true. You're pretty okay yourself," Tali replied quickly.

"I guess two out of three is okay then," Ziva finished.

"Ari was a good person too, Zee," Tali pointed out, hoping that Ziva and Kate would not go off at her.

Kate snorted. "I'm sure he was." Roy shot her a look that said, _'be quiet'_.

"Was, Tali, was," Ziva emphasised strongly. "You didn't know him how I knew him in his final few years. Your image of him is still the charming older brother. He was a bastard in every sense of the word."

"He was a good brother," Tali said defiantly. "We were once a good family."

"Yeah, long ago, Tal, long ago."

* * *

_Bondi Beach, Sydney, Australia, January 1988_

"I want chocolate, daddy!" four-year-old Tali exclaimed excitedly as she looked at the different flavours displayed in the ice-cream parlour. "With sprinkles and chocolate sauce and sprinkles."

"It seems Princess Tali has spoken," nineteen-year-old Ari smiled as he picked up his younger sister. He twirled her around before she snuggled up in his arms.

"I want strawberry, dad," nine-year-old Ziva added. "In a cone, please."

"Son, what would you like?" Aharon David asked his son before heading over to the counter to order.

"Ri-Ri wants rainbow," Tali replied, using her nickname for him, before Ari could open his mouth. She smiled innocently at her father and her brother.

"I guess Ri-Ri wants rainbow," Ari repeated, tickling Tali on the tummy. She giggled and squirmed in his grip. "Who's my little tickle monster?"

"Me, me, me!" Tali giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And who's my munchkin?" Ari continued, looking at his other younger sister.

"I suppose that would be me." Ziva rolled her eyes. "I'm nine years old. Don't you think that's a bit old for munchkins?"

"You know you love it," Ari smiled. "It is our favourite movie after all."

"It's a baby movie," Ziva retorted.

"Then I guess I'm just a big baby," Ari replied, tickling Tali again.

"No, I'm the baby," Tali amended.

"Yeah, it's not like you ever let us forget it," Ziva replied, a smile gracing her face.

"I'm the baby, I'm the baby, I'm the baby," Tali chanted, wriggling in Ari's arms.

"That you are, my little one," Aharon said as he kissed the top of Tali's head and handed her a cone with chocolate ice cream.

"Thank you, daddy," Tali said sweetly before proceeding the lick the chocolate blob.

Aharon handed the two other cones to his two other children before guiding them out of the ice-cream parlour.

* * *

After finishing their ice creams, the family made its way onto Bondi beach. Tali looked around in awe; this was better than she had expected. 

"Shoes off, Zee-Zee," Tali announced as she indicated for Ari to put her down.

Ari placed the little girl on the sand and she immediately tugged her older sister's hand. Caught off guard, Ziva tumbled into the sand, bringing Tali with her. Ari looked at his sisters for a moment before he started laughing.

"Not funny, Ari," Ziva said grumpily, but a smile betrayed her voice. She turned to Tali. "You know what, Tal, I think Ari should join us!"

Both sisters grabbed Ari's legs and pulled on them until Ari also joined them in the sand, making a large thumping noise as he fell. Aharon looked at his children covered in sand and laughed.

"Don't think you can get away so easily, old man," Ari said as he sat up and grabbed his father's hand. Aharon David came tumbling into the sand, just as the three others had. Aharon looked up and saw the smiling faces of his three children.

"Daddy!" Tali exclaimed and clambered into his lap. "Me and Zee-Zee are gonna make a sandcastle."

"We are?" This was the first Ziva had heard of this.

"Yes," Tali replied confidently, "and I'm going to be the beautiful princess who lives in a gigantic castle and has a pet Llama." Both Ari and Aharon had to stifle their laughter.

"You can be the other princess," Tali told Ziva. Ziva looked horrified.

"I am not being a princess," Ziva said firmly. "I am going to be a brave soldier."

"But soldiers are men," Tali pointed out innocently, "girls are princesses."

"There are so too girl soldiers," Ziva argued determinately. She turned to her father. "Tell her, daddy. There are female soldiers, yes?"

"Of course there are," Aharon reassured Ziva. "There are both men and women soldiers."

"See, Tali," Ziva said to Tali and stuck out her tongue. "I'm gonna be a solider."

"But . . ." Tali tried again.

"Let your sister be a solider, little one," Aharon said smoothly. "I'll be your other princess."

Ari snorted at this suggestion.

"No," Tali said, shaking her head, "daddies are the kings. Daddy is the king, I'm the princess, Zee-Zee is the . . . solider and Ari is the bad guy."

"Why am I the bad guy," Ari pouted.

"Because I said so," Tali responded with an innocent smile. "Let's make a castle, Zee-Zee."

Ziva sighed, but began to mirror her younger sister's actions.

* * *

"Look, daddy, we finished!" Tali exclaimed excitedly a couple of hours later. "It has a moat and everything." Tali gestured to the sandcastle, a look of pride on her face. 

"It's lovely, Tali," Aharon replied. "Fit for a princess."

"And a king," Tali added.

"Yes, and a king too," Aharon amended.

"What about the solider?" Ziva whined. "I helped too."

"You have to go kill Ari," Tali said slowly. "That's what soldiers do."

Ziva look aghast. "I'm not gonna kill him."

"Pretend killing, Zee-Zee," Tali said as if she was talking to a four year old and not her older sister. "It's not real."

"Come and try your best," Ari laughed, standing up. "Or I will take over the world."

"Not take over the world, silly," Tali corrected, "just the castle. Plus Zee-Zee is gonna kill you anyways. She's a soldier."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Which I now regret." She turned to Ari and pointed her finger at him. "Bang, you're dead," she said unenthusiastically.

"No, no, no," Tali repeated, "that's not how it goes. Ri-Ri is meant to kidnap the beautiful princess and then the king is meant to tell the solider to go and rescue her. That is how it goes."

"That's a silly story," Ziva stated. "Why can't the princess rescue herself? She's not helpless."

"It just doesn't go like that," Tali argued. "The princess always gets saved by the solider . . . or the prince, but we don't have a prince so it has to be the solider."

Ziva turned away from her sister. "Dad, can I go swimming?"

"What about my game?" Tali whined.

"Daddy will play with you," Ziva told Tali. "I want to go swimming."

Aharon turned to Ari. "Son, take your sister swimming. I'll stay here with Tali and play her little game."

"I don't need an escort," Ziva mentioned defiantly. "I'm nine years old."

"Yes, you do," Aharon stated firmly. "Ari, go with her."

Ari nodded. "C'mon, munchkin, it'll be fun."

"Okay," Ziva replied, knowing she had been overruled. She pulled off her t-shirt before racing towards the water's edge.

"Ziva, wait up," Ari yelled as he followed his sister.

* * *

Ziva shrieked as Ari splashed her with the salty seawater. "What was that for?" 

"I felt like it," was Ari's cheeky reply.

"Well . . ." Ziva started and proceeded to splash Ari back. However, she couldn't manage to splash as much water as Ari had. "Show me how to do it, Ari!"

Ari paddled over to where Ziva was and took her hands in his. He showed her how to cup her hands and make a spray of water appear.

"That's really cool!" Ziva exclaimed. It was funny what amused a nine year old. "Show me again."

Ari mimicked the hand action again and Ziva copied, making a copious amount of water splatter Ari.

"I did it!" Ziva announced happily, just as a large wave dumped itself over their heads.

Ari immediately grabbed for Ziva's hand, but missed it as he lost his bearings in the wave. Momentarily stunned by the wave, Ari gasped as he reached the surface. Scanning wildly for his sister, to his horror he could not see her anywhere.

"Ziva!" Ari yelled, spinning around in a circle. "Ziva, if this is a joke, it is not funny." There was no reply and Ziva did not appear. Ari cursed under his breath.

"No, Ziva, no," he said frantically before diving under the water.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the water, but once they did, he frantically looked and felt around him. He couldn't see or feel her anywhere. Gasping for the second time as he reached the surface for air, he looked around, hoping to find that she had appeared. She hadn't.

"Damn it, Zee!" he shouted before diving under again.

It still took his eyes a few seconds to adjust, but this time he managed to make out a shadowy figure about five metres away.

'_Ziva!'_ he thought rapidly.

Reaching out and kicking wildly, he grabbed onto the shadow. He immediately recognised it as his sister's arm. Dragging both of them to the surface, it was the best sound in the world when he heard Ziva coughing up water.

"Ar . . .ri," she spluttered as Ari immediately headed towards the shore.

"Shhh, it's okay, munchkin," Ari said reassuringly, though he was shaking on the inside.

"Wave . . ." Ziva muttered weakly.

"It's okay," Ari repeated. "I've got you."

Reaching the shore, Ari picked up the still coughing Ziva and stumbled out of the ocean.

"Ari!" he heard his father yell and saw him racing towards the brother and sister, Tali at his heels.

"Ziva!" he exclaimed coming to a halt in front of his two eldest children. Tali started crying. Passing Ziva off to their father, Ari picked up Tali who buried her face in his shoulder, not caring that it was wet.

"Should we call an ambulance?" Ari suggested worriedly, looking at his sister.

"I'm okay," Ziva mumbled sleepily. "Ari saved me."


	14. Relationships Are Important

**Disclaimer:** I own the season three DVD. Does that count? No . . . oh, well. NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** I'm finally back in business. School is over for 2007 and I finally have time to get back to the important things in life (like fic writing). I am so sorry that it has been ages since I updated, but school and work got in the way big time. Plus I had major writer's block on (grrrr . . .) with this chapter, but I finally found the groove again. Hopefully people are still reading this and thanks to everyone who has stuck by me and waited for this long overdue update. I still have nine more planned chapters so bear with me (I know it's gonna be pretty long). Also thanks so much to my beta, Kandon Kuuson, who gave me most of these ideas of the stuff with Palmer and Lee.

* * *

"Our greatest joy-and our greatest pain comes in our relationships with others." - Stephen R. Covey

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**_ Relationships Are Important_

* * *

_Present Time – NCIS HQ_

"Any word on Ziva," Abby asked, her pigtails whipping against her neck as she bounced up to Tony.

"Sorry, Abs." Tony looked downcast as he stared at his blank computer screen. "I think McGeek went to visit her."

"What!" Abby spun around. "Timmy went to see Ziva and didn't take me . . . humph."

Tony looked sympathetic. "I'm sure it was a . . . spur of the moment thing."

"He still should have told me," Abby grumbled, crossing her arms exaggeratedly.

"I sent him," Gibbs stated, not looking up from the report he was reading at his desk.

"What!" Now it was Tony's turn to be surprised. "Why . . .?"

"Because," Gibbs replied curtly.

"Because what?" Tony questioned.

Gibbs shot Tony his customary stare. "I just did, DiNozzo."

"But . . . I . . ." Tony trailed off.

"Yeah, me too," Abby added grumpily.

Gibbs sighed. "One: Abby, you were busy. Two: You know why, DiNozzo."

"Oh, great," Tony rolled his eyes and muttered as he opened the filing cabinet behind his desk. "Just because you think Ziva and I are sleeping together . . ."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said warningly.

At the same time Abby said, "You? Ziva? Together! Doing it together?"

"No, Abby," Tony hissed as he firmly, but loudly, slammed a file into his filing cabinet. "Ziva and I are _not_ doing it." He stressed the word 'not'.

"Oh." Abby looked thoughtful. "Well, you did make pretty ugly babies, you and Ziva that is."

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed. "My genes are good."

"I wonder why nobody wanted to use it then, DiNozzo," Gibbs added, a small smirk on his face.

"How? Whaa . . .?" Tony spluttered. "Damn, Ziva. Even in a coma, she still . . . . eurgh."

Abby giggled. "Ooh, so there are no little DiNozzo's running around then?"

Tony buried his face in his hands. "Shoot me now."

Abby giggled again. "Cheer up, Tony. I'm sure you and Ziva can make cute babies."

"I'm not making any babies with Ziva!" Tony exclaimed loudly, pulling his head up from his hands.

"You and Ziva are making babies?" McGee asked nonchalantly, walking into the bullpen. He did a double take. "What?"

"Long story, Probie, long story," Tony sighed.

"You want the full version or the Reader's Digest version," Abby offered, looking at McGee. "But you're still not off the hook, Timmy."

"Off the hook?" McGee looked confused as Abby hit in him the shoulder. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Not taking me to the hospital," Abby pouted.

"Sorry?" McGee offered sheepishly, still looking a little confused. "But Gibbs said . . ."

"Said what?" Abby asked accusingly.

"Err . . . never mind." McGee was quick to change the subject.

"How's Ziva, Elford?" Gibbs asked from his desk. Tony smirked and Abby whacked him on the shoulder.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed.

"Leave Timmy alone," Abby replied before turning to McGee. "How's my girl?"

"Since when is she your girl?" Tony asked, amused.

"Since now," Abby replied with a smile. "You jealous, Tony?"

"N . . . no." Tony shot McGee a look, changing the subject. "Probie!"

"What?" McGee looked offended. "Why is it my fault?"

"Who said anything about fault?" Tony shrugged his shoulders. "I was gonna ask how Ziva was."

"The same," McGee replied.

"The same?" Abby repeated. "The same as what?" She looked darkly at Gibbs. "I would know if _somebody_ let me visit her."

"She's still in the coma," McGee clarified.

"Oh." Abby looked sad. "She'll be okay, right."

"Sure she will, Abs," Tony tried half-heartedly, but failed. "Ninjas don't die."

"This is not one of your movies, Tony," McGee amended.

"Well . . ." Tony looked pensive. "I did see this movie once . . ."

"You'll have to save it for later, DiNozzo," Gibbs barked as he stood up. "We've just got a hit on the BOLO for Petty Officer Cays' car." He tossed the keys to Tony as he exited the bullpen.

"On you six, boss," Tony replied, hurrying after Gibbs. "You coming, Probie."

"Right, coming." McGee turned to Abby. "She will be okay, Abs. I know it."

Abby smiled at McGee. "Thanks, Timmy."

* * *

_Bethesda Naval Hospital_

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Jimmy?" Michelle Lee asked as she and Jimmy Palmer hovered in the doorway of Ziva's room. "I mean, Officer David, well, you know . . ." She trailed off helplessly.

"Chelle, she's in a _coma_. There's not much she can do to you," Palmer replied exasperatedly, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. "Not that I'm speaking ill of the dead . . . err . . . unconscious."

"But . . ."

"Ziva is nice," Palmer stated. "I like her."

"I guess," Lee said hesitantly, "but she, you know, is a little scary."

"Once you get to know her, she's great," Palmer said enthusiastically. "Why, just the other night . . ."

"Oo-kay, Jimmy, I get it," Lee grumbled, slightly jealous . . . and scared of the pretty Mossad assassin.

"Don't look at me like that, Chelle," Palmer said nervously, noting Lee's stare. "You're the only woman for me, even if Ziva is kinda, you know, hot . . ." He trailed off when he saw Lee's stare hardened.

"No, no, not like that," Palmer stuttered. "Well, yes, like that, but no . . . no – your –"

"You're digging yourself into a hole there," Lee stated, with a hint of a smile. She liked watching Palmer squirm.

"Right," Palmer mumbled defeated, "sorry, Chelle."

"Oh, don't worry, Jimmy," she said lovingly and kissed him on the cheek. "You're the only man for me."

"Oh." Jimmy turned red.

"What?" she asked seductively, bringing her mouth close to her ear. "You think there are others."

"No," Jimmy stuttered. "Of course not."

"Good." Lee rolled her eyes. "Because you know there are plenty of other things we could be doing . . ." She smiled seductively.

"Michelle," Palmer admonished, "she's in a coma and you're thinking about . . ."

"Aren't you?" Lee batted her eyelashes.

"Well . . ." Palmer said hesitantly, not one to pass up an opportunity when he saw one. ". . . I'm sure on our way out we could find an empty on-call room . . ."

"I'll hold you to that," Lee smiled. "Okay, let's do this."

Palmer sighed. "You're not going into combat, Chelle," he said in response to her tone of voice. "We're just visiting a friend."

"Oh, okay." Lee didn't sound so sure.

Palmer sighed again and grabbed her hand. "Come on, Michelle. It'll be okay." He pushed open the door and pulled Lee in after him.

* * *

As Palmer and Lee walked quietly into Ziva's room, Lee let out a small gasp when she saw Ziva hooked up to all the machines.

"Oh, my . . ." she looked helplessly at Palmer. Palmer was also staring at Ziva, his eyes wide with shock. He shook his head and snapped out of it.

"It's okay, Chelle," he murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure it looks worse than it is." He didn't sound too sure of himself.

"Yeah, I guess," Lee muttered in reply.

They both stood there for a few minutes, staring at the one person they thought that they would never see like this. Finally, getting as use to the machines and the beepings as she could, Michelle plonked herself heavily on one of the chairs next to Ziva's bed.

"I think I need to sit down," she said weakly. Palmer nodded and dragged over another chair and parked himself on Lee's right.

"Sooo . . ." Lee started hesitantly, looking at Palmer.

"Michelle and I have been sleeping together," he blurted out before he could stop himself. He covered his mouth with his hand as Lee glared at him.

"Jimmy!" she shrieked.

Palmer looked back and forth between Ziva and Lee sheepishly.

"Well . . . she is in a coma," he tried weakly.

"Still . . . still," Lee spluttered. "I . . . you know inter-office relationships are frowned upon!"

"You know, I did hear Doctor Mallard talking to Agent Gibbs once about Agent Gibbs and the Director . . ." Palmer smiled cheekily.

"No, no, no, we are not going there," Lee frowned, closing her eyes and shaking her head as if that would prevent the images that were already forming in her mind from appearing. "I do not . . . no, no Director and Agent Gibbs."

"I was just saying . . ." Palmer trailed off. "Anyway, what about Ziva and Agent DiNozzo?" He tried to change the subject.

"What about Officer David and Agent DiNozzo?" Lee questioned.

Palmer looked at her incredulously. "Are you blind, Chelle? Haven't you noticed, the whole office has noticed!"

"Noticed what?" Lee said, not totally comprehending Palmer's words.

"Ziva and Tony!" he exclaimed. "C'mon, you haven't seriously not noticed?"

"Oh, yes, I've noticed," Lee remarked dryly. "I just don't want Officer David waking up and finding you dissecting her love life. She'd rip your tongue out. And she's probably kill you, maim you and do all kinds of Mossad things to you."

"Oh." Palmer looked worried. "She wouldn't do that, would she?"

Lee shrugged. "You never know what a blow to the head can do. Look what happened to Agent Gibbs. He lost his memory and moved to Mexico."

"Well, Mexico is sounding real nice right about now," Palmer muttered, still wondering if Ziva was going to suddenly wake up and kill him then and there. "But Agent Gibbs came back didn't he."

"In the end," Lee agreed.

"Well, then, Ziva will too," Palmer declared. "Not from Mexico, but you know, this." He gestured to Ziva lying in the hospital bed.

"That's sweet, Jim," Lee smiled softly at Palmer.

"She will," Palmer stated defiantly. "I mean, the team doesn't need another crisis . . . like Agent Todd." Palmer suddenly looked downcast and turned away as he remembered the agent who had been gunned down.

Lee placed her hand on his shoulder leaned into him, her head fitting under his chin.

"I know, Jim," she said softly. "I know. It'll be okay. You'll see."

Palmer kissed the top of Lee's head. "I know, it has to be."

They sat like that until the sun disappeared behind the moon . . . together.


	15. Never Truly Dead

**Disclaimer:** NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** I hate myself for this chapter, I really do. I put Ziva through the wringer so much in this one and put a lot of effort into it, so I hope it did it justice and wasn't for nothing. This is the longest chapter I have written, so I applaud you if you make it to the end. Thanks to my beta, Kandon Kuuson, for patiently betaing 3000 odd words. So, thanks, Jems, you don't know how much I appreciate it.

Oh, I'll be on holidays till the 22nd of December and have no access to a computer so I hope this will be enough to keep you going until then.

* * *

"The only truly dead are those who have been forgotten." Jewish Proverb

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**_ Never Truly Dead_

_Present Time – Reflection_

"What does showing … that achieve?" Ziva muttered as the screen grew dark, shooting glares at her fellow Reflection companions.

"It shows that we're not a completely messed-down family," Tali replied, but looked thoughtful and crinkled her eyes. "Messed-down?"

"Messed-up, I think," Roy corrected, grinning at the fact that both Tali and Ziva made the same mistakes with their idioms.

"Yes, that, messed-up," Tali nodded. "And we don't belong on … on that show, you know, the one where families yell at each other …"

"Jerry Springer?" Kate offered.

"Yes, Jerry Springer," Tali smiled at Kate. "We're okay."

Ziva's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Okay!?! I think we are far from okay, Tal. Haven't you noticed what has happened since you … died? Or are you still living in your little fantasy world when you were sixteen, I still lived in Israel and Ari wasn't a betraying …" Ziva didn't finish.

Tali looked hurt and cast her eyes to the floor, but said strongly, '"It wasn't _my_ fault that some nut decided to blow himself up at the café. So, sor-ry, if I'm still just that sixteen-year-old kid whose family hasn't broken apart. I don't know anything else."

"Oh yeah, than what was that you said before?" Ziva countered. "That you have been keeping an eye on me. So you should know what has happened in the past seven years. You should know that Ari betrayed us, that father doesn't careless about his remaining child –"

"Daddy does care about you," Tali cut in sharply.

"And what would you know?" Ziva retorted. "Wake-up, Tali, we're not kids anymore."

"I know that," Tali snapped. "I'm dead, Ari's dead and you're running around America with NCIS and DiNozzo. Of course I know all that, I've been with you the whole time."

"With me?" Ziva exploded; Tali's jab at her about Tony had struck a cord. "How can you be with me? You're dead!"

"Remember when that drug dealer died in your custody?" Tali replied. "Or the time when you found that head, were trapped in that box or undercover."

"So," Ziva continued to yell. "Where we you when I was being chased by Mossad, the FBI and NCIS. Or when Gibbs was blown up or even when Ari Shot Kate?" Ziva pointed at Kate as she finished.

"I am … we are … not a guardian angels, Zee," Tali said determinately. "We can't just go around saving people's lives."

"Than what are you?" Ziva countered.

"As I said before, part of you," Tali replied. "We all represent part of you."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "You expect me to believe that? You, sure, you're my sister. Roy, okay, I see it kinda, but Kate. What has Kate got to do with me?"

Tali sighed. "It really isn't the time for explanations, it's complicated."

"Complicated!" Ziva muttered. "What is everyone's obsession with the word complicated?"

'_First Tony and now Tali,'_ Ziva thought to herself. She mentally punched Tony in the gut.

"How can it be complicated?" Ziva raised her voice. "You're dead, Kate's dead, Roy's dead, I'm … I'm actually not sure what I am, but that about covers it. That's not complicated, that's … that's me going crazy."

Ziva sighed and sank onto the couch. "I am so going crazy."

"You're not going crazy, Zee," Tali laughed.

"Then why does it feel like I am?" Ziva muttered.

Tali smiled again. "You're not crazy."

"Feels like it," she muttered again. "So … so why am I here?"

"We have been through this before, Ziva," Tali sighed. "You have to let go."

"Let go?" Ziva questioned hotly. "Let go of what?"

"Everything," Tali answered cryptically. "We've done loyalty, control, Mossad and now its time for you to let go of the guilt you feel over me."

"Excuse me?"

Tali rubbed her forehead with her palm. "You feel guilty that I got killed and you couldn't save me."

"I … I ..."

"That's perfectly normal, Ziva," Roy added. "Survivor's guilt and all."

"Survivor's guilt? I …" Ziva was once again lost for words.

Tali looked at her sister sadly. "Look," she said and pointed to the screen.

* * *

_Palms Café, Tel Aviv, Israel, June 2000_

Sixteen-year-old Tali David scanned the lunchtime crowds. She was looking for her sister, who had just come back from a mission in Syria, and was meant to be meeting her for lunch. She was late, which was unlike her.

"Tali," she heard a voice yell and a familiar face greeted her with a smile. "Sorry I'm late. I got caught up with something at Mossad."

"Of course you did," Tali sighed dejectedly. Her sister never had much time for her now that she was with Mossad.

"Hey, I'm here, aren't I?" Ziva snapped a little as she pushed a strand of dark hair out of her face.

She noticed Tali's face and sighed. "I'm sorry, Tal. The mission was stressful, to say the least."

"I'm sorry," Tali said as she looked at her sister's face.

Ziva look weary, stressed and over-worked. She had bags under her eyes and looked like she'd done it rough.

"You okay?" Tali questioned sympathetically taking in her sister's features and placing a hand on her arm.

"Fine, Tali," Ziva replied and when Tali looked at her disbelievingly added, "Really, I am fine. You shouldn't be worrying about me."

"Can't help it," Tali muttered. "You and daddy and Ari are always doing such dangerous things. I don't wanna lose you, Zee."

Ziva looked at Tali's face and sighed. She looked so young and innocent. She shouldn't have to be worrying over the rest of her family.

"Hey, you'll never lose me," she said, pulling her little sister into a hug. "I'll always be here for you." She kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, I know that," Tali replied, snuggling into Ziva. "It's just …"

"Let's not talk about that, yes," Ziva suggested, pulling away from Tali. "Let's go inside and sit down. I'm starved."

Tali laughed and Ziva realised how much she'd missed her sister's infectious laugh for the past two months.

"Hey, what are you thinking?" Tali asked when she noticed Ziva was daydreaming.

"Oh, I thinking how nice it is to be home," Ziva responded, smiling at Tali.

Tali returned the smile. "Well, can you do that inside? Now that you mention it, I'm starved too."

Ziva smiled and put her arm around Tali's shoulder. "So, what have you been up to? Any boys I need to break the arms of …?"

* * *

"No, seriously, Zee, stop laughing," Tali berated with a laugh and hit her sister on the shoulder.

They were seated at a little table in the far corner. They had both ordered and were waiting for the waitress to bring their lunch.

"What, it's funny," Ziva said through laughs.

"Is not, he's such a … a," Tali was lost for words.

"Nerd," Ziva supplied.

"I guess," Tali said. "I mean he tries, but he's just so … eurgh."

"Oh, my poor little Tali," Ziva laughed, patting Tali on the hand. "Just tell him to mind his own business. Or, if that doesn't work, hit him where it hurts the most." She smiled suggestively.

"Zee-vah, not everything has to be violence," Tali stifled her grin.

"Who said anything about violence?" Ziva looked at her sister with an innocent face.

Tali rolled her eyes. "Doesn't work on me, sis."

"You said it, not me," Ziva laughed again.

"I can never win, can I?" Tali sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"I'm Mossad trained, Tal, it's my job," Ziva pointed out.

"Yes, Mossad," Tali said dejectedly. "Let's not go there, please."

"Oo-kay," Ziva replied as she noticed how much the mention of Mossad upset Tali. "Tali …"

"Just don't, okay," she muttered in reply. "Let's not talk about_Mossad_." Tali said Mossad with contempt.

Ziva sighed. "Tali …" she tried again.

"No. Don't, Ziva," Tali snapped, her normal easy-going persona dropping away. "I don't want to hear it."

"I had no choice," Ziva stated as if it was something that would reassure Tali.

"No choice," Tali shrieked, earning glances from other patrons. She lowered her voice sarcasm coming through, "There are always choices, Zee-vah. What about, oh I don't know, _being a doctor_?"

"Things changed," Ziva shot back.

"Changed?" Tali said angrily. "I remember when you would spend hours on the phone talking to Ari about medicine, med school, becoming a doctor …"

"That is all in the past, Tali," Ziva sighed. "I am no longer that person …"

"I'll say," Tali muttered under her breathe, but didn't go unnoticed by Ziva.

"What is your problem?" she snapped, sounding harsher than she meant to.

"My problem!?!" Tali retorted, patrons now stared at them. Both Ziva and Tali took no notice. "My problem is that you and daddy and Ari are always away on missions. What about me? I'm stuck at home with Hanna and all the other hired help. By myself! And I get to sit there and worry whether you're gonna come back from your next mission or not!"

"Tali …" Ziva started warningly.

"Don't Tali me, Ziva," Tali snapped in response. "You're not my mother."

A look of hurt flashed across Ziva's face, before being masked with a look of indifference. Ziva had become something of a substitute mother to Tali since their mother had died in childbirth.

"I have been the closet thing you have had to a mother since mother died," she hissed in a dangerously low voice. "If it wasn't for you, mother would have survived." As soon as the words had left her mouth, she regretted them.

A look of something that Ziva hadn't seen before in her life flashed across Tali's face, a slap in the face wouldn't have been more potent. In fact, she would have preferred a slap in the face rather than the look on Tali's face. Looking in Tali's eyes, Ziva could see that very moment in time, Tali hated her sister.

"Oh, my, Tali …" Ziva said in voice she'd never used before. She reached out for Tali's hand, but Tali jerked away so quickly that Ziva just stared at the place where Tali's hand had been just a moment ago.

"Don't. Touch. Me," she hissed, looking at her sister as if she didn't know her. Tali got up abruptly, nearly sending her chair flying backwards as she did. Patrons who had gone back to their lunch looked up in surprise.

Ziva opened her mouth to say something, but the shrill sound of her cell phone cut her off. Ziva looked down at the caller ID and cursed._Mossad_.

"I, err, have to take this," Ziva whispered apologetically. "Its, ah, work …" she trailed off helplessly.

Tali glared at Ziva and said, her voice full of contempt, "Of course it is. It always is."

"I could, you know …" Ziva tried, as the cell continued to ring.

"No, just … just take it," Tali snapped angrily. "I don't particularly want to be around you at the moment." Tali turned away from Ziva.

Ziva shot Tali a pained look before picking up the offending object and storming outside.

* * *

"Fine," Ziva snapped down the phone as she stood outside Palms Café. "If that is what you wish."

Ziva sighed as she snapped closed the cell. She'd just gotten back from Syria and already Mossad wanted to ship her off on some covert mission in Cairo. And she had Tali to worry about.

"Damn it!" she all but yelled in frustration, kicking the nearby rubbish bin as she did so. "Eurgh …"

She ran her hand through her hair. "Sometimes I hate this job," she muttered.

Sighing again, Ziva turned back to the café, determined to make things right with Tali. She turned to open the door, but realised her cell had clattered to the ground near the rubbish bin.

Making her way over to it, she bent down to pick it up. As she did, an explosive force slammed her into the ground, her head banging itself on the rubbish bin.

Blinking away the black dots, she instinctively covered her head with her arms as she felt debris rain down upon her. She could feel little pieces of glass land upon her skin and groaned in pain as a heavy force crushed her arm. The black dots appeared again as she struggled to stay conscious. The only sound she could hear was the buzzing in her ears. Her arm felt like it was on fire and her head started to throb as if someone was poking needles into it.

The distinct smell of burning finally reached her nose, and smoked formed a cloud around her head. She coughed weakly, and felt dizzy and light-headed.

Groaning again, she kicked her legs, hoping that she wasn't trapped by debris. As she fought to stay conscious, she pushed against the weight on her arm. It didn't budge. As she tried again, her hearing slowly returned to normal and she heard the pained screams of the people around her. It sounds so very much like a war zone. It felt like one too.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" a voice said from above.

Ziva blinked and tried to focus on the man standing above her.

"My arm," she said weakly, blinking away the black spots that threaten to consume her, "it's stuck."

"Okay, it's okay," the man soothed as he looked at the piece of building that was crushing Ziva's arm. "Let's get that off you, okay?"

Ziva tried to answer, but no words came, so she settled with nodding instead.

"Okay, it's okay," the man repeated in the same soothing tone as she reached down and grasped the build piece. "I'll just remove it nice and slow. It's okay."

Ziva sighed with relief as the weight on her arm was finally lifted. She instinctively pulled it close, wincing as a sharp pain rocketed up her arm. She didn't need to be a doctor to know it was broken.

"My … my sister," she croaked, the smoke affecting her speech.

"Your sister?" the man questioned, assessing her for other injuries.

"In … in the ... café," Ziva muttered.

"She's in the café?" The man seemed horrified. "Do you know what happened?"

Ziva nodded and licked her lips. "Bomb …"

"Yes, a bomb," he said sadly.

"No …" Ziva breathed, a strange numbness settled on her. "Tali …"

"Your sister?" the man repeated and Ziva nodded.

"I must," she tried, but found herself coughing from the smoke. "I have to find her."

"You're in no condition to do anything of the sort," the man reprimanded firmly, for the first time she noted his Army uniform.

"No," Ziva repeated and struggled to sit up. Black dots appeared in her eyes, but she blinked them back angrily.

"Ma'am," the soldier said, trying to push her back down.

Instead, Ziva grabbed onto his arm and used it to stand herself upright. More black dots appeared and she swayed the spot. The man reached out and grabbed her by the waist.

"I must insist …" the soldier tried again, but Ziva, who had found some strength, pushed him away and staggered over to the burning building before he could stop her.

Coughing, she shook her head to rid it of the offending black dots and looked into what had once been the door of the café. She crinkled her nose as the unmistakable smell of burning flesh reached her nose, being close to the heart of the disaster made it so much worse.

Scanning wildly, Ziva saw that the walls of the café had been blackened, making the whole situation look even more like a nightmare. She noticed the few tables that weren't incinerated in the initial blast were on fire. The flames danced along the tabletops, making the scene look like Hell.

She had been in these kinds of situations before, but the sight of a body still burning only two metres away was enough to make her stomach churn. The other bodies, some burnt beyond recognition and some still withering in pain, littered the floor.

Ziva forced down the bile that was rising in her throat and concentrated on looking for Tali. Stepping clumsily through what had once been the door, she scanned her eyes around the room, looking for her sister.

* * *

She coughed as a cloud of smoke entered her mouth and stubbornly shook away the black dots that threatened to consume her. She looked around the room, her eyes resting on the area where she and Tali had been sitting.

Ziva staggered in that direction, her arm hanging limply at her side. The smell was worse and she could hear the weak cries of patrons who had unfortunately survived the blast and were now in immense pain.

Blocking them out, she was startled as a hand wrapped around her leg. She gasped, inappropriately thinking about a horror movie she and Ari watched a few years ago. She shook her head and looked down.

A balding elderly man was lying at her feet in an awkward angle. Miraculously, it looked like he'd only received minor burns.

"Help … me," he pleaded weakly, sounding young and pathetic. "Please …"

"I …" Ziva looked around the room and then back down elderly man.

"Please, I cannot … cannot walk," he breathed. "My ankle, I think … broken."

"I …" Ziva was at a loss. On one hand she didn't want to leave the café for a second since Tali was still in it. On the other hand, here was a survivor pleading for her help.

"I …" She shook her head. She couldn't leave this man here to just … die. Tali would hate her if she did.

"Okay, okay," she croaked, trying to sooth the man. "I'll help, I'll help."

She leant over, wincing as she did so. Ignoring the pain, she managed to use her unbroken arm to get the man to his feet.

"Put you arm around me," she muttered, steading him as he swayed.

When she felt his arm around her shoulder, she took off towards the door. She stepped over a body and passed a burning table before reached the incinerated door.

Staggering under the weight of the man, Ziva stepped outside and immediately dropped to the ground.

"Ma'am," the same soldier said as he hurried over to her.

"Take … him." Ziva all but shoved the elderly man into his arms before unsteadily getting to her feet and turning towards the building.

"Ma'am," he called as she staggered back towards the building. Ziva ignored him and continued towards the building.

As she entered, the smell and the smoke didn't irritate her senses so much. She headed back to the place where she had rescued the elderly man. Passing it, she continued to look wildly around the café, searching for signs of Tali.

She reached the spot that she was certain used to be the table she and Tali were sitting at only moments before. As she peered over the twisted remains of the table, the sight beyond it took her breath away.

* * *

She stared at the sight, unable to move. Although almost charred beyond recognition, one small patch around her eye remained untouched. In an instant, she knew. Tali's eye. It stared back at her, opened wide with fear, in an image that would haunt Ziva for the rest of her life.

Ziva choked back a sob. That could not be her little sister lying there. Resiting the urge to vomit, she stepped around the table. Her knees finally gave way as she knelt down on the floor, not caring that the metal underneath her burnt through her pants and left its mark on her calf.

"Tali …" she breathed, reaching over to the body of her sister. "Tali …" It was if though she thought saying her name would be enough to bring her back from the dead.

She reached for her sister's body, bringing it close to her own. She was horrified as Tali's left hand snapped off and fell into her lap. Her eyes started to roll back in her head as the black dots danced in front of her eyes. She shook her head fiercely, unaware of the tears that had started to fall.

Absentmindedly, Ziva reached out and ran her hand over Tali's hair, as she had done so often after her sister had woken from a nightmare. But this wasn't her nightmare, this was Ziva's.

"Tali …" she whimpered again as more tears splashed on the charred body. She pulled it closer to her, not caring about the debris that was staining her clothes.

She looked down at what had once been her lively sister and the lone eye stared back at her, burning itself into her mind.

"Tali … Tali … Tali," she muttered over and over again, her sobs mixing in with her words as she rocked back and forth.

A silver glint caught her eye so Ziva lent over, brushed the debris aside and picked up the chain. Hanging off it was a silver Star of David. It was perfectly untouched and Ziva recognised it as the one her sister constantly wore.

Gripping onto the necklace as if it were a lifeline, Ziva heaved herself and Tali up into a standing position.

Blindly taking a step forward, Ziva managed to make her way over to the non-existent door, carrying both Tali and the Star of David.

She stepped out into the sunlight and once again collapsed to the ground.

"Oh, my," it was the same soldier again and he sounded horrified. Ziva ignored him and the rest of the chaos that reigned around her.

She held onto the body of her little sister as if her life depended on it. Ziva made no effort to move, breathing heavily and unable to fight away the forming black dots. Tears dripped down her face, but she didn't notice. As she finally slumped forwards, she heard the familiar voice of her older brother call out.

"Ziva!" she heard him yell desperately. "Ziva! Tali!"

Ziva could hear footsteps getting closer as the darkness threatened to take hold of her. She heard a sharp intake of breathe and heard a tone of voice she had never heard Ari use.

"Tali!" came the strangled cry. It was a mixture of shock, horror, fear, pain and disbelief. It was a voice that shook Ziva to the core and one that she hoped she'd never, ever hear again.

"Tali! No …" it was the same tone and it tipped her over the edge.

As she finally let the darkness consume her, she felt Ari kneel down next to her and take Tali's body in his arms. Her last thoughts before she gratefully passed out were:

'_I'm sorry, Tali. I am so sorry.'_


	16. Tears and Rain

**Disclaimer:** NCIS is not mine.

**A/N** Here's the next chapter folks. Sorry about the delay, I've been working on my other fics and real life in general has been quite busy lately. And then I went on holidays … again. Enjoy. Thanks to Kandon Kuuson, my lovely beta.

* * *

"A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world." - Lois Wyse

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**_ Tears and Rain_

_Present Time - Bethesda Naval Hospital_

A young woman hurried down the corridor of Bethesda Naval Hospital. Her black pigtails whipped back and forth as she tottered down along the linoleum. Abby had begged, pleaded, threatened, cried and all but sneaked out of NCIS Headquarters to see Ziva. She was determined to see her friend, just as Gibbs and the others were determined to restrict her access to Ziva, unwilling to make her upset. Luckily, Abby was a smart girl, and had Gibbs wrapped around her finger, so she managed to "convince" Gibbs to let her visit Ziva at Bethesda.

As she was rounding the corner to Ziva's ICU room, a young doctor slammed into her, making her stumble backwards.

"Oh, oh …" the young doctor looked horrified, whether stunned due to the collision or due to the fact that the woman half-standing in front of him was dressed in a red mini-skirt with a black and white skull shirt, studded dog collar, platform boots and black pigtails tied up with miniature skulls attached to her hair ties.

"Oooh, I'm sorry," Abby apologised as she righted herself. "I wasn't watching … you see I'm going to visit my friend who was injured, badly injured when someone hit her over the head. Only there is ony an hour of visitor's hours left and I need to see her. I would have come earlier, but my … my…I mean Gibbs told me I couldn't because I was needed at NCIS to run some evidence. So I had to stay, I mean, I'm the only forensic scientist there and the last time I had an assistant he tried to frame Tony and kill me, so I work alone. So I don't have anyone to cover for me, but I really, really wanted to see Ziva, but I had to run the evidence so I did. Then I finally managed to get permission to leave so I drove straight here, but my hearse broke down along the way so I had to get a cab and then there was only one hour of visiting time left so I was walking really, really quickly so I could see Ziva …" she finished in one big breath.

Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins blinked and stared at the Goth with a look of pure confusion. "Um …"

"Where are my manners?" Abby suddenly chastised herself before sticking out her hand. "Abby Sciuto, NCIS, forensics actually."

"Ah, Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins, Bethesda Naval hospital, doctor," Dr Winchester-Diggins quoted Abby, taking her hand warily.

"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor," she inquired, her green eyes staring intently at him. "Not that being young is a bad thing. I'm young … kinda. Well, not young _young_like as in teenager, but I'm not old _old_ either, like … like Gibbs. Not that he's old, he's old_er_than me, but not as old as Ducky …" she trailed off as Dr Winchester-Diggins looked at her as if she was a little bit crazy.

"Um, okay, Ms Sciuto …" Dr Winchester-Diggins started warily. "You said you were looking for a Ziva … that would be Ziva David of NCIS?"

Abby looked at him as if he was the crazy one. "Didn't I just tell you that?"

"Erm …" Dr Winchester-Diggins looked conflicted between telling the truth and simply nodding his head. He went with the latter, as the Goth girl standing in front of him scared him more than his boss did.

"Can you tell me her room?" Abby asked, and then added as an afterthought, "Please."

"Room one-oh-two," Dr Winchester-Diggins replied promptly.

Abby smiled brightly and pulled a bewildered Dr Winchester-Diggins into a hug. "Awww, you're such a nice doctor," she cooed.

"Ah, thank you?" Dr Winchester-Diggins uttered, looking like he wanted to run far, far away.

Abby let go of Dr Winchester-Diggins, smiled brightly and started to totter off in the direction she came in. She stoped suddenly and turned back to Dr Winchester-Diggins.

"Um … which way is room one-oh-two?"

* * *

Once Abby reached room one-oh-two, she stopped and went to push on the door handle. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the slim handle.

'_Maybe Gibbs was right, maybe I shouldn't be here,'_ she thought to herself.

'_No,'_ she voiced. _'Pull yourself together, Abigail. Ziva is your friend and she needs you.'_

'_Right,'_ she nodded to herself. _'Okay, Ziva needs me.'_

She grasped the door handle determinately and pushed the door open. It swung open and Abby got her first look at Ziva since she'd been admitted.

Abby gasped. "Ziva!" The sight of Ziva lying still and pale on the bed brought back memories of Gibbs lying similarly after being blown up on a ship and even more memories of Kate lying in Autopsy.

"Ooh, Ziva, Ziva, Ziva," she chanted worriedly, hurrying into the room. She circled Ziva's bed, pacing back and forth.

"Ziva, oh, Ziva," she muttered as she paced. "You're okay, Ziva?"

Obviously Ziva didn't reply.

"Yes, I am fine Abby," Abby replied to herself, using a bad imitation of Ziva's voice, the last traces of caffeine from her last Caff-Pow kicking in.

"Of course you are," Abby said in her normal voice. "You're a super Mossad ninja."

"It will take more than a little coma to defeat me," Abby-Ziva agreed.

"Exactly, that's what I keep telling myself," Abby said brightly. "Ziva is not going to be overcome by some little coma like this."

"That's the spirit, Abby," Abby-Ziva encouraged.

Abby's pacing came to an abrupt halt and she lent over and pulled Ziva's hands in her own. "You'll be okay, won't you, Ziva?" she questioned softly.

"Of course I will, Abby," Abby-Ziva replied tearfully.

"Okay, good," Abby sniffled. "Because you can't die … you just can't … not like Kate." A tear dripped onto Abby cheek and she quickly brushed it away, her face slightly streaked by the eyeliner.

"Because after Kate … you're my best friend," she inarticulately as she took Ziva's hand in hers. "I mean sure, there's McGee and Tony and Gibbs, but you're a, well, you know, a girl …" Another tear fell down her face and she made no moved to brush it away. Her face became even more streaked with eyeliner.

"I know I was mean to you when you first arrived," Abby sniffed. "But we … I … had just lost Kate. I was upset, it was like part of me had been ripped away. And then there was Gibbs and Tony and Tim and they were just all so sad. I was worried, especially about Gibbs. I thought … I thought Ari would get him too, you know …" More tears trickled down her face, causing more streaks of eyeliner.

"But then Ari shot at me and … and I thought I'd be next," Abby whimpered. "It's selfish and mean and … but I didn't want to die, especially become a victim of Ari's … like Kate." Abby let go of Ziva's hand and slid down the side of the bed so that she was resting her head on it.

"Ari … Ari was going after women close to Gibbs," she continued tearfully. "He ... he didn't miss and hit Kate instead … he was aiming at Kate. Then he was aiming at me and then Ducky …"

"Gibbs told me he was going to keep me safe," Abby mumbled. "He did … but how could have he protected me Ari decided to pop me off like Kate? I mean … Ari was smart, he avoided capture for like forever. He even managed to infiltrate autopsy for goodness sake!" The tears were falling steadily now.

"Then Kate went, just like that." She made a gun shape with her hand and pressed it to her forehead. "No warning, no nothing … just gone …"

"McGee called me, you know," she sobbed. "He was crying. I … I knew something was wrong. He wouldn't tell me … he couldn't tell me. But then he did and I think I dropped the phone. Kate was … dead … I didn't believe it … I didn't want to believe it."

"Then Ducky came to see me and I knew it was true," Abby finished sadly, the caffeine wearing off, showing Abby for who she really was … fragile. "Kate was dead … and then you came."

Abby sighed. "I … I was angry and hurting. I thought you were replacing Kate. I was mean and hurtful and you were just trying to be nice, but I threw it back into your face." She sniffled and wiped some tears off her cheeks.

"Kate … my best friend … was gone and you were … there," Abby whispered tearfully. "I know you didn't deserve all that stuff I shot at you, but I didn't know you and you were kinda Kate's replacement and it was just … easier to direct my anger at you …" Abby paused.

"I guess I was angry at myself for not being there," Abby muttered. "And at Gibbs and Tony and Tim for not, you know, saving her. I know that there was nothing they could do, but still …"

"I'm sorry," she suddenly burst out as she stood up quickly and turned to the bed. She reached over and hugged Ziva tightly.

"I'm sorry for everything I said to you, for being mean, for thinking you wouldn't be as good as Kate, for you being here, for getting so emotional …" Abby sniffed as a few streaky tears dropped onto Ziva's face.

"Please wake up, Ziva," she sighed tearfully, wiping them off Ziva's face. "I need you to come back … the team needs you to come back. They … I … couldn't handle another Kate."

Abby let go of Ziva and stood up proudly. "I'm not gonna stop until I get this guy, Ziva. I promise, pinkie swear. He'll wish he'd never been born when we get him …"

Abby beamed at Ziva. "I can, you know, kill without leaving forensic evidence. But I guess you could do that too, but anyways …"

Abby turned to head subconsciously to the window. She looked outside and then smiled brightly. "Look Ziva, it's raining."


End file.
